Morning's Hush
by rantandrumour
Summary: After one stunning hour, Alex has been left completely alone to recover. Lost in a world where nothing matters anymore,how can she deal with losing everything? Warning: Dark Even for me!
1. Fire

**This fic started as a joke. Honestly. I was threatening to write something horrible to Alex because xX-Misty is being mean to Kim and Robin. So I just came up with this on the spot, thinking of the worst things I could do, and she told me that she couldn't be held accountable for me being mean to them and then asked me to write it. So now, three days, 10000 words, and nearly five chapters later, here is chapter one.**

_**Warning. This fic is one of the darkest I've written. **_

**Chapter 1: Fire**

Alex glared at the psychologist. The woman was slim, with a slightly ruddy complexion and rather mousy brown hair. The dark dress the psychologist had on did nothing for her complexion and the nude lipstick made her seem completely washed out.

"I want you to start by telling me something, Alex," the woman said calmly. God, she hated the woman's voice. It was so peaceful, so serene. Alex wanted to cross the room and throttle the woman. Instead, however, she just took a deep breath in and replied.

"I don't want to be here."

"I realise that, Alex."

"I'm not crazy."

"Of course you're not. This is normal procedure for someone who's gone through what you did. We're just making sure you're fit to come back to work."

Alex stared at the woman. "How would you know," she asked softly, venomously. "How would you know if I was ready to return to work? No one's been through what I have. At least no one that has survived."

She stopped talking abruptly, crossing her arms and legs, receding inside herself for protection, choosing to stare at the books instead of the woman sat across from her.

"Alex, you're a psychologist as well. You know what we look for."

Alex gave a sharp nod. "I know what you look for. I'm fine. I'm sure you can see that from what you're _looking for._"

"Actually, you seem a bit tense."

"That's because I'm stuck here talking to you when I should be on the streets catching the bastards who did this!"

"Alex," the woman said softly. "They've already been caught. We told you that."

Alex shook her head furiously. "Not all of them."

"Yes all of them."

"There were four. You got all four?"

The woman nodded. "All four of them. Their fifth partner was already in prison. They're all awaiting trial."

Alex stared at the woman for several moments, fighting back the tears in her eyes. "Do you think they'll be found guilty?"

The woman nodded. "That's how they are pleading, Alex," she said gently.

Alex shook her head. "It doesn't make it any different."

"I know that. No one can change anything though."

"I can," Alex murmured, staring at her hands. She studied her fingers, wondering if they were nimble enough to make the knots.

"How can you change what's been done?" the psychologist questioned.

"I can't change anything that's been done. Of course I can't do that. I'm not Doctor Who."

The psychologist smiled, but Alex remained serious. "I can change what happens to me. I'm not a bloody miracle woman. The papers labelled me that, but I'm not. I just got lucky. If you can call this lucky."

Alex gave a short, sharp laugh. It was cold, bitter, and she noticed that the psychologist shrank back just slightly.

"Alex, are you considering suicide?"

Alex smiled, a cruel, acerbic smile, one of someone who had felt too much and was starting to go numb.

"If I said yes, you'd tell me I couldn't go back to work and have me sectioned. If I said no, you wouldn't believe me and would tell me that I couldn't go back to work, and insist on more sessions with me."

"That's not answering my question, Alex," the woman said firmly.

"You want an answer?" Alex asked callously. "I've thought about it every single day since I woke up in that damn hospital bed. I've seen opportunity after opportunity. All those damn glass vases sitting next to my bed, I just wanted to smash one and slit my wrists. But I figured it wouldn't work out. I'm _the woman who lived._ If I tried, I would probably sodding live anyway. No one gets it. I didn't want to be saved that day. I was almost dead. If the ambulance crews had gotten there a few minutes later, I would have been."

They sat in silence for a moment before Alex spoke again.

"Yes, I have planned a way to kill myself. But the question you're looking to ask is if I would ever go through with it." She smiled unemotionally and shook her head. "I don't think I could."

"Why not?" the woman asked. "What stops you?"

"The idea of my daughter. I stay alive for her."

The woman checked her folder. "It says that you don't have anyone that lives with you."

Alex shook her head. "My daughter's not with me. She's with her godfather. I'm alone in the world."

Realisation crossed the psychologists face and Alex knew that she thought that Molly was dead. That's what Gene had assumed. That's how it felt sometimes. She was on the other side of an impenetrable barrier, a place that no matter how hard Alex tried, she could not cross to. She had almost made it. The day she was shot in this world, she had opened her eyes in the other. But there was something wrong, and the doctors started yelling as alarms sounded. She had faded into blackness, only to wake up again in 1983, alone.

Alex glanced at the clock. The session was over. Thank god. The psychologist noticed and closed her folder.

"I don't think you're ready to go back to work, Alex," she said. "You need therapy. It's the only way you can start to move past what happened last month."

Alex gave a cold smile. "What a totally unexpected answer," she said sarcastically.

"I know you wanted to go back..."

Alex laughed. "It's the only thing I know. Of course I do."

"Even if you did go back, it'd be to a different CID, a different DCI. You'd probably be assigned to Fenchurch West."

"Better Fenchurch West than sitting at home, thinking about what happened all day long."

"I'm going to have someone come check on you," the psychologist said, writing in her notes. "I don't know if you should be home alone just yet."

"That's the problem," Alex said softly. "I'm all alone. I've got no one. Not anymore. I have no choice."

She stood, inclining her head to the psychologist and leaving the room. She walked down the stairs of the building, refusing to go near the elevator. She had stopped using them in the past month, liking the quiet of the stairs. As lonely as she felt, she didn't want to be around people either.

She walked down the street, ignoring the hustle of the thousands of people on their way somewhere. Sidestepping a group of tourists trying to get a photo, she walked into the off-licence, grabbing a bottle of vodka. She tossed the coins on the counter and walked out, never saying a word to the man, even when he asked her how she was doing. She had stopped talking to people. Everyone thought that they knew her now. She had become somewhat of a celebrity and she hated every second of it. She didn't want attention. She just wanted to be left alone by the public.

Alex walked past the darkened Luigi's. He had closed shop two months earlier, returning to his native Italy. It was odd to live above it now. She had been so used to the constant rumble of music and conversation that it seemed too quiet.

She walked up the stairs to her flat, unlocking the door and tossing her keys aside, opening the bottle of vodka and taking a long swig.

"Shouldn't do that," said a voice. "They'll think you've turned into an alcoholic."

Alex swallowed, feeling the alcohol burning at her throat. "I don't give a shit what they think."

"You don't?" the voice said. "Did you tell them that I've come to live in your flat?"

Alex turned, staring at Gene. He looked the same as ever, slightly worn out suit minus the jacket, his hair messy with one lock falling over his face. His eyes glittered brightly in the reflection of the light from the kitchen; he was sitting in the dark.

"No I didn't," she admitted.

"You're afraid of being found out."

"I'm afraid of being sectioned."

"Well, you're well on your way to going there," Gene commented.

"I wouldn't be if you would stop showing up in my flat."

Gene just propped his booted feet up. "I'm not going anywhere for a long time, Bolly, and that's all down to you. You know you could just boot me out of your flat, but you insist on keeping me here."

"I'm lonely," she said softly. "I miss you." She flopped next to him on the sofa, leaning in to him and taking another swig of vodka.

"I'm sure you do. But you're not helping yourself by staying in your flat every night, talking to me and getting pissed."

"The Gene Genie, advising against getting pissed?" she asked, raising the bottle to her lips again.

"In these circumstances, yes, Drake."

She smiled coldly at him around the bottle and drank deeply. She waited for him to snatch the bottle away, but he didn't. She knew the reason behind this in the back of her mind, but she wouldn't let herself accept it.

"You should go out among people."

"Why? All they do is stare. Don't you know, Gene, that I'm _the woman who lived._ I'm a _miracle_. I'm a _survivor._" She gave a fake laugh, staring at the bottle, considering taking another drink.

"Yes, you bloody are. Stop taking the piss out of what the press wrote about you. It's true."

"The only reason I'm a sodding survivor is because they shot me just right. If they'd aimed properly before they shot me, I wouldn't be here."

Gene sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You know, you're the most frustrating woman I've ever met?" he asked.

"You've told me that before," she said, unsmiling. She didn't smile anymore. If she did, it was cold and sarcastic.

"What happened to you, Bolls?" Gene asked staring at her. "You've changed so much."

"What happened to me?" Alex laughed, a true laugh, a mocking laugh. "You've got to be joking me, right? God. What happened to me? I was fucking shot, Gene. That's what happened to me."

"So? I've been shot. Loads of people get shot."

"I'm not Gil Hollis Gene. I'm not trying to drag out the fact that I was injured. I'm not using it as an excuse."

Gene stared at her incredulously. "What are you talking about Bolly? That's bollocks. You just used it as an excuse."

Alex opened her mouth furiously, but realised that he was right, much to her frustration. "I hate it when you're right," she said.

Gene smiled at her. "I know you do. And you're going to hate me even more. Because we both know that you're using the fact that you were shot to hid behind something else."

"No," she warned. "You can't say it."

"But..."

"No buts," she said. "I don't want to hear it."

"You don't want to accept it."

"So?"

"Acceptance is the first step to getting through everything. You taught me that, Bollinger Knickers."

"You actually listened," she said, taking another swig. She was quite drunk now, and knew she was only a few minutes from passing out.

"Only when you didn't realise I was listening. I did have a reputation to uphold."

"Don't," she said, holding her hand up.

"Don't what?"

"Don't refer to yourself in the past tense."

"But..."

"Don't do it!" she yelled at him, throwing the vodka. It flew against the opposite wall and shattered, dripping alcohol onto the floor. "I should just light a match and toss it there," she murmured standing to find a box of matchsticks.

"No you don't," Gene murmured, getting up.

Alex laughed sharply and looked at him. "What are you going to do, Gene? Are you going to stop me? Can I ask how you plan on doing that? Are you going to pick me up and drag me away? Are you going to tear the fucking goddamn matchsticks out of my hands and throw them out the window?

Gene just stared at her, his blue eyes glittering with sympathy.

"I didn't think so. You can't fucking control me, Gene. You can't do anything about if I decide to send myself up in flames. You know why? You're bloody dead, and I'm sodding crazy!" she yelled. "I see you every night in this damn flat, and you do nothing except tell me that I need to move the fuck on, and you shouldn't even be here! Get out! Get the hell out of my flat! Stop seeing me!"

Gene looked at her sadly. "You don't really want me out," he said. "Otherwise I'd be gone."

She lit the match. "I just want you back, Gene."

**To be continued**

**__****I think this came about because my other fic is too fluffy...**


	2. Orchids

**I've learned a few things this week. First, watch out for giraffes. They're dangerous! Secondly, Gene likes eyeliner. And thirdly, don't look at the comments on tornado siren videos on youtube. They're scary! Almost as scary as Geoff will be if you don't review! This header is completely inappropriate for the tone of the chapter...Ah well.**

**Chapter 2: Orchids**

Alex stared out the window, sitting in the chair, watching people come in and out of the building. She longed for the freedom that they got. She was a prisoner now, in more ways than one. As well as being trapped in the world of the living, she was trapped in a mental hospital, just as she had been for six months. She had been transported here quite quickly, after the woman the psychologist sent to check on her had heard her screaming at Gene and threatening to burn herself along with the flat.

Gene was still with her. He stayed by her bed, but if there was no one in the room, he would come visit her and talk to her. She had been angry with him at first, convinced that he had gotten her into this mess, but then she realised that if Gene was dead, it wasn't possible for him to end her up here. No, this was all her fault. She knew that she had gone insane, and now she was paying the price for it. This was where she belonged, in the madhouse.

With a groan and a sigh, Gene sat down next to her, dressed in the same thing that he had been the day he died. She thanked God that she didn't have to see the blood that had covered his suit, that she was imagining him as she had seen him as she walked in that morning.

"I can tell you want to talk about it," he said softly to her. He always talked softly when there was a chance to be overheard and she whispered her replies.

"Talk about what?"

"About what happened that day."

"Why on earth would I want to talk about it?"

"Because like you always told me, you need to let things out. You bottled it up in the beginning, just like I would have done. You drank it out. But here you are, six months sober, and you haven't talked to anyone."

"I don't want to talk to anyone. I want the vodka back."

Gene just laughed at her. "Bolly, I stem from your psyche. Otherwise, I wouldn't even know that word. Or say it that way. I've gone all posh." He laughed again, before becoming serious. "You're the one imagining me. I know you better than you know your bloody self."

"Why would I make you omnipotent?" she asked him.

"Because my looks and charm are so God-like," he answered, without a drop of sarcasm, and yet not serious at all.

"You wish," she replied, staring out the window. "I just want to go outside."

"You can."

"How?"

"By talking about it."

"If I talk about it, you'll disappear."

Gene smiled at her gently. "I know. But without me following you everywhere, you can live a life."

Alex stared at him. "How can I live after what happened to me? To you? To all of CID? They're all dead, Gene. Shaz, Chris, Ray, Viv..."

"I know, Bolly. And you miss them."

"Shaz was one of my best friends."

"As difficult as this sounds, you've got to find new friends, Bolly. It is possible. Remember when you came here? No friends at all, and everyone thought you were a nutter."

"The only difference now is that it's true." She sighed, rubbing the grain of the wood on the chair.

"You're only as insane as you're making yourself. If you would accept what happened, you could walk out of here tomorrow."

Alex looked down, playing with a piece of paper that she'd found. The silence stretched several minutes, Gene being more patient than he had ever been when he was alive.

"I've never been to your grave," she said finally.

"See if they can arrange an outing," he said.

"Yeah, that'd go over brilliantly. Which of you loonies wants to go visit the graveyard?"

"You're not loony, Alex. You're daft, but not crazy."

"I'm scared."

"Just face up to it. Hell, I got scared. When I was staring down at that bastard before he shot me in the chest, I was bloody terrified. But you know what scared me more?"

"Them drinking your whiskey?" she asked dryly.

"Well, besides that."

"What?"

"I was afraid that you wouldn't make it."

"Well, I did, and look at me now," she said sarcastically. "I'm doing great for myself, aren't I?"

"You will do."

Gene looked up and walked out hurriedly as footsteps approached. Alex continued to stare out the window, not moving, not bothering to look back at who had entered the room. It was probably just a nurse, trying to coerce her to eat. However, someone sat down next to her. She looked over, confused. Her confusion turned to disappointment, however, when she saw that it was just her psychologist.

"You realise that in the next month I've got to recommend whether or not to section you again, don't you?"

Alex nodded, staring out of the window. "We had the same conversation five months ago," she said quietly.

"See, the thing is, Alex, I don't think you're crazy."

"That makes one of us," she said sarcastically.

The psychologist took a deep breath in and continued. "You see Gene."

"He's a figment of my imagination, I know." Alex finally looked directly at the woman. She hadn't changed at all in six months. The only difference today was that she was wearing grey instead of black. The woman really needed a colour palette.

"He's there to help you deal with what's going on," the woman replied. "You've buried it deep within yourself and you just need to let it out."

"You sound just like him."

"And you know that he is your rational, psychological side," the woman said. Alex stared out the window and nodded. "Then why don't you listen to him?"

"I don't want him to disappear. I...I loved him."

"He won't disappear, Alex. I know that pictures aren't the same as hearing him talk directly to you, but it's better to remember the man he was. Not the man your mind's manipulated for you."

Alex sighed. She knew the woman was right. She spoke total sense, the only thing that had ever made sense. Psychology.

Alex stared down at the paper that she had been playing with earlier. Unknown to her, she had grabbed a pencil, writing out two words. _Just talk._

She took a deep breath in. "You're right," Alex said softly. "I want to talk about what happened. But not where people can walk in on us. And I want to visit his grave."

The psychologist stared at her a moment. "I think I can approve you for an afternoon outing. Grab a jacket. It's chilly. I'll meet you up by the office."

Alex nodded, going to the room she shared with the other women, and pulled a jacket out from her meagre wardrobe. She put it on, walking to the front. She noticed that everyone was staring at her. She knew why. It was the quickest anyone had ever seen her move. She never went anywhere quickly, making sure everyone knew that she didn't want to be there.

The psychologist led her out of the hospital, leaving the stares of the staff and patients behind her. They got into a Princess and the psychologist turned to her. "Do you want to get flowers?"

"I have no money."

The psychologist shook her head. "I can get them. I know a nice spot."

Alex nodded, buckling her seatbelt, hearing Gene scoff at her from the backseat. It was odd. He'd never shown up when anyone else was around before. "Relax," he said. "I'll behave myself."

Alex stared at the dashboard for a while until they got to the flower shop. She followed the psychologist in the shop. "You can pick anything you want, even the most expensive bunch."

Alex smiled softly, shaking her head. She'd already found the perfect flower. "I just want one," she murmured. It was a blue orchid. "He hated feminine things. He'd tell me I was making him into a poof." She wiped tears from her eyes. "He'd tell me that I was being soft, but it matches his eyes. I can remember them clear as day."

Gene stared at her, standing next to the flowers, saying nothing. She looked at him, surprised to see the sorrow in his eyes as he nodded at her. "They're perfect, Bolly," he murmured. The psychologist –Alex really should have learnt her name – walked up to the counter and smiled at the clerk. "Two of the blue orchids," she said.

"But I..."

"I know," the woman said firmly. But this way you've got one for you as well. Dry it out. Keep it as a keepsake."

She smiled at the woman appreciatively. The woman smiled back, handing over a few notes. They went back to the psychologist's car. Alex was fortunate at that moment to catch the woman's name on a badge sitting on the dashboard. Katherine Rice.

They drove in silence to the cemetery. Gene still had not disappeared from the back, something that was starting to concern Alex. Why was he appearing when Katherine was there? These thoughts kept her occupied for the entire ride and she hardly heard as Katherine told her that they were there.

Alex got out of the car slowly, staring at the graves laid in front of her.

"These are all from CID," Katherine said gently. "They put them all together on one plot, with Gene in the middle."

Instead of going straight to Gene's grave, Alex walked in circles around the plot, looking at the names on the gravestones, telling Katherine a little about each person. About halfway through, she burst into tears, but Katherine produced a few tissues, and Alex continued on.

She got to the final five. "Sergeant Vivian James. Viv. He loved puzzles. He decoded things for us sometimes. He had the worst poker face imaginable," she said, with a half laugh, half sob. "He loved West Ham, and had a signed football in the back behind his station. He would skive off work sometimes to go to Hammers games, something that pissed Gene off to no end."

She moved on to the next gravestone, closing her eyes. "WPC Sharon Granger. Shaz. She was my best friend. She was the only other woman in CID, and together we faced the misogyny. She had it worse than I did, though. I was a DI, so they had to respect me, at least to my face. She usually got stuck making tea and biscuits. She was on her way to becoming a WDC, though. She was one of the brightest in the station." Alex fell silent for a moment before speaking again. "She was the first," she murmured.

"And then you have her boyfriend, DC Christopher Skelton. Chris," she said, moving to the next headstone. "He never understood what was going on, but he was a sweet man. He loved Shaz so much. They were going to be married. The wedding was all planned. They were killed two months before they could, though. Chris was tech-savvy, to that added something to his record. He could handle the new VCR's and things better than Gene and saved them from getting destroyed. He was best friends with Ray.

"Ray was the most misogynistic man I have ever met, but it was all a front. He was terrified of women. He was really shy around them, really sweet. He just put on the front in front of CID to show he was a 'real man.' I actually spent the first month thinking that he was gay. He was fiercely loyal to Gene. Both he and Chris would have followed Gene anywhere he went. They both followed him down from Manchester after he moved."

Alex stood in front of the last headstone, staring at the words inscribed.

_Detective Chief Inspector _

_Gene S. Hunt_

_9 January 1936- 11 April 1983_

_Leader of the Fearless_

She couldn't see it anymore, as the tears were blocking her vision. She felt something being pressed into her hand, and realised it was the orchid.

"Gene. Gene Hunt. He was the most obnoxious man I'd ever met. He was childish, stubborn, irritating and reckless. But somehow he made me feel safe. He made us all feel safe. We spent nights getting pissed at Luigi's, too hesitant to make a move on each other, and now...Now it's too late. I loved him, so much. I didn't think it at the time, but I really loved him."

Alex set the orchid down on the grave, looking up to see Gene staring at her, trying to hold back tears. It was such a moving vision, that she started crying harder.

"And me, Bolls..." he murmured. "You know I did."

They stood at the grave for a few minutes longer before Alex finally turned away, Katherine following her. They started driving in silence, until Katherine finally broke it.

"We've got a bit of a drive to the hospital. Do you want to talk on the way?"

Alex nodded. It was time to get the story out.


	3. Carnage

**WARNING: This chapter is EXTREMELY dark and angsty. **

**Chapter 3: Carnage**

The most remarkable thing about that Monday morning was of how absolutely normal it was. Alex walked in fifteen minutes late, as she always did on Mondays, still slightly hungover. Gene was sitting in his office, feet on his desk, throwing darts at the board. Ray was smoking heavily, huge clouds of smoke wafting over CID. Shaz and Chris were both sitting, huddled over her desk, talking about their wedding.

Alex walked past her desk, immediately going to make a cup of tea. She sweetened it slightly, something she only did on Mondays, and went to her desk, grabbing a bottle of paracetamol. It had been annoying that she'd found none at the flat that morning, but on her way home from work, she could pick some up. She tried staring at paperwork for a few minutes, but the headache was still pounding away above her eye. She figured she could give it about fifteen minutes and it'd be manageable.

Well, since there was nothing better to do...She got up, deciding to go bother Gene. As she passed Ray's desk, she stubbed out the cigarette he had left in the ashtray because he was gesticulating too wildly with his hands. She grinned to herself, walking in Gene's office without knocking.

"Don't you ever knock?"

"Don't you ever do your paperwork?" she retorted, looking at the mounds of paper surrounding him.

"Yes, I do," Gene said, throwing a dart. "Just not on Monday mornings."

"Or any day ending in 'y' for that matter," she said, sitting down.

"What do you want Drake? You're disturbing my peace."

"So arrest me."

"I have half a mind to."

"Have you found somewhere to have drinks tonight?"

Gene shook his head. "We need to find a uniform pub to take over. It would've been nice if Luigi had given us some notice before he left."

"He did. He gave us two months."

"More than that. It takes longer than that to find a local."

"Or, we could just go round the street and try out the pub a bit further down the road."

Gene shook his head. "I'm not allowed to go in there. I may have threatened to insert things into certain orifices that made the owner unhappy with me."

Alex sighed. "Will you _ever _mature?"

Gene shook his head. "Nope. You gotta accept me as I am, Bollinger Knickers."

He stood. "It's so bloody hot in here," he complained, taking off his jacket. He was wearing a white shirt and a black and red striped tie. He ran his hands through his hair, making the one strand fall in front of his face, and pushed his mouth up into a pout.

"Sodding heat wave." He paused. "Is it just me, Bolly, or is it rather quiet in here?"

"What do you mean?"

"The phones. I haven't heard them go off all morning."

"Maybe the criminals are having an unofficial bank holiday," she said jokingly.

Gene just stared at her a moment before rolling his eyes and picking up his phone. He frowned. "It's dead." He leaned out the door. "Ray! Go get Viv!"

Ray nodded, grabbing his cigarette and glaring at Alex when he realised that she had stubbed it out. She just laughed, unconcerned, sitting back down. Gene had gone out into the office, testing all the phones. "All of them are dead," he said, frowning.

"Gene, I'm sure it's nothing," she said.

"I don't know, Bolly. I don't like this."

Ray came in a few minutes later, followed by Viv. Alex's headache had subsided, so she went out to work on some paperwork. Gene and Viv were having an animated conversation in his office, which Alex guessed was Gene just yelling because the phones weren't working properly. Suddenly, four men walked through the door. They were huge and imposing, but they were dressed in business suits, so Alex stood.

"Can I help you?"

"We want to talk to Hunt," said one with dark brown hair.

"DCI Hunt is busy at present," she said, walking around her desk. Suddenly, the man grabbed her, holding his gun to her head. She screamed in shock, and the man clapped his hand over her mouth as CID looked up. Gene had looked up from inside his office, rage filling his features.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"Hunt. I want you to have your men close the curtains and the rest can push the desks against the wall. Otherwise, the posh one dies."

Alex felt her knees starting to buckle beneath her, but the man was holding her up with the arm around her face. Gene looked at her in concern and nodded to CID.

"As long as I've got her here, I want you all to hand over your guns. Now!"

At this, Gene hesitated. "Guv?" Poirot asked.

"I'm telling you Hunt..." the man with brown hair warned. He jammed the gun into Alex's head and she whimpered.

"Do it," Gene said to CID.

"I want them all in your filing cabinet, locked, and you can hand me the keys. After they hand you the guns, they sit on the floor here."

Gene nodded at CID again, and they all shuffled through his office, throwing their guns into the drawer. Gene locked it, and handed the man the keys. The man's partners had spread throughout the room.

"Good man," the man said, releasing his hold on Alex. She fell to the floor, and Shaz immediately started towards her in concern. Suddenly, Shaz collapsed on the floor, blood pouring from a wound in her chest. Chris cried out and started towards her, only to have the same thing happen to him. Everyone stood still after that, looking their colleagues bleeding on the floor, before they turned, staring at the men. The man's three companions had all fixed their guns with silencers.

"None of you move," said the brown haired man. "If you do, one of my friends here will kill you. We only came for one thing. We want the immediate release of Matthew Wade."

Gene shook his head. "I can't do that," he said. "The only people that can release him now are the courts."

Three people suddenly went rigid as a bullet passed through their skull. Their blood poured onto the floor, staining the clothes of the people kneeling near them. The tension in the air was incredibly thick, and Alex could almost smell the sweat rising from the group of men in the middle of the room.

"Do you think I'm playing around, Hunt?" the man asked. "I'm not, you know."

He pulled Alex up into a kneeling position, pushing her face to look at the floor before kneeling next to her, pressing the gun gently against her head.

"You're going to be last, Hunt," he said softly. "You're going to watch all of your officers die."

Alex knew Gene was staring at her. She was thanking God that she couldn't lift her head to look at him; if she saw the concern in his eyes, she was going to start to cry.

The man made a motion to his men and three more people collapsed on the floor. The gun slipped from her head, down to her waist. He put his arm around her chest, dragging her up with him. "Eight people are dead, Hunt. That's over half your office. Let Matthew Wade go."

Gene looked down at the floor. Alex knew that he was stuck in the worst position he could ever be in. Not only was he having to choose between the law and his friends, he couldn't even choose his friends because of the courts system.

"Even if I could do anything," Gene said, his voice deep and full of grief, "I can't now because all of our phone lines are dead. I can't even make the bloody call."

"Have it your way, then," the man said, throwing Alex to the floor and shooting her without looking. He had not put a silencer on his gun and the shot echoed around the silent CID. Alex gasped as she felt the bullet enter her stomach. She heard three more bodies collapse onto the floor and knew that everyone except for Gene was dead, or nearly dead.

Gritting her teeth from the pain, she pulled herself up, trying to knock over the man with the gun. She knew her efforts would be fruitless, but it was worth a shot anyway. However, as she stood, another bullet entered her chest, one from the men with a silencer attached. She collapsed to the floor, lying on her stomach, her vision slowly fading.

"Alex," Gene yelled, starting toward her, before the man's gun loosed another bullet.

"We might as well get out of here," the man said. "Someone'll have heard that. They're all dead anyway."

The men left the room, and Gene crawled over to her. Blood was pouring out of a wound in his chest, one that looked closer to the heart than hers felt. His shirt was stained with scarlet, and it was clinging wetly to his chest.

"Gene," she murmured. "Is everyone..."

"Everyone but Chris and Shaz got hit in the head," he replied, sounding devastated and angry.

"It hurts, Gene."

"I know, Bolls. But you got to hold on."

He was kneeling next to her, holding her hand.

"You've got to hold on too, Gene," she said quietly, almost whispering.

Gene gave a harsh smile. "I'll try my hardest, Bolly."

He lay down next to her, his strength failing him, keeping their hands linked. They stared at each other, not speaking. Blackness was eating away at her vision. His breathing was slower than she remembered it being. "Gene," she whispered.

"Hang on, Bolls," he murmured, his eyes closed. He was fading, she could tell.

"Gene, hang on. You've got to hang on too."

He opened his eyes, the bright silvery blue staring at her intently and sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, Alex," he murmured as his eyes went glassy.

"Gene," she said. "No. Gene, please. Don't leave me." She shook him, but he didn't move, didn't breathe.

Alex felt the tears burning in her eyes, but didn't let them fall. She would be joining him soon enough. The darkness was taking over now, and she felt herself going cold, freezing cold. The last thing she remembered seeing was Gene's eyes, staring at her blankly.

"From the moment that they entered until the first paramedic crews arrived, forty-five minutes had passed," Alex said softly. "The men didn't shoot anyone until fifteen minutes in. They were gone five minutes before the paramedics arrived. CID was murdered in less than twenty-five minutes."

Katherine said nothing, listening intently, even though they had arrived at the hospital several minutes earlier.

"I regained consciousness for a few minutes when the paramedics arrived," she said. "I seeing their feet walking through the carnage...I remember the looks on their faces if they knelt down. They were as devastated as I felt. They were walking from person to person, saying that no one had a pulse. Then someone stood next to me. His shoes were _coated_ in blood. I heard him call to the others 'Jesus Christ, this one's still alive.' When I woke up, I knew that everyone was gone. My friends, the man that I loved, everyone. And I was bitter. I still can't understand why they decided to let me live."

"Because you have more to do," Katherine said, tears in her eyes. "It's clichéd, but true. There is still reason in your life, Alex. You just have to start searching for it."

"But where do I start?" Alex murmured. "When I get out of this place, where do I go?" She looked at Katherine desperately. "I can't go back to the police. There's no way I could sit behind a desk again."

"You're going to have to find something that suits you. Take it easy for a while. Learn who you are all over again. Then find something that you want to do."

Alex gave a soft smile, not exactly a real one, but not fake either.

"There's still a place for you in this world, Alex. It's just up to you to find it."

Alex nodded her head, staring at the building in front of her. "I don't want to go back in there."

"No one does," Katherine replied. "I don't have to live there and I hate going in there."

"I guess this is where I start," she said. "Step one to getting through what happened, going back into the loony bin."

"You're not crazy," Katherine reassured her.

Alex looked at the imposing building in front of her and then stared at Katherine for a long moment before replying.

"Then why do I always feel like I am?"


	4. Anniversary

**Chapter 4: Anniversary**

Alex lay, curled up in bed, staring out the window of her flat. It was bright outside, being four in the afternoon, but she hadn't moved all day. She hadn't wanted to. It was exactly a year to the day that CID had been murdered in front of her.

She had not seen Gene in three months, since the night she had told everything to Katherine. He had appeared by her bedside that night, waking her up from her sleeping.

"Don't say anything," he had said, sitting on her bed, rolling his sleeves up. "God, it's warm in here. How do you sleep?"

Alex had said nothing, staring at him. He looked different than he had when she had talked to him earlier. There was something about him that seemed...more real. He seemed more like Gene than he did when she imagined him.

"I'm impressed with what you did today," he had said. "You're not going to see me anymore, Bolly. Not until the day that you die. I'll come back and get you. Until that time, live for all of us, Drake. If you don't, expect a bollocking when you get to heaven. And it'll be your round."

With a wink, he had stood and walked out of the room. Alex had stared after him for a few minutes until one of the women she shared the room with had woken up and sighed.

"Can you just, for _one _ bloody night, not wake me up talking to your imaginary friend?" she said snippily. Alex had glared at her and laid back down in bed, quickly falling asleep.

Alex still didn't have a job, but the Met was paying her a reduced salary until she found a new one. It was their way of apologising to her for what happened.

She moaned out loud as her stomach growled. She was so hungry, but she didn't want to move from bed. Of course, if she did, she could grab some alcohol to drown her sorrows. Alex smiled bitterly at the thought. That had been one nice thing about being released from hospital; she could drink again. However, she no longer did it to excess. She had been through one detox from alcohol; and it wasn't something she ever wanted to go through again. According to the nurses in the hospital, it had been three days, but it felt like years, even if she couldn't remember most of it. All she could remember were flashes of Gene, Ray, Shaz, Chris, and all the others of CID, looking at her, glaring at her. They were blaming her for being alive, while the rest of them were dead. She knew that they thought she had no business being alive. She had nothing to tie her to this world, while some of them actually had wives and children. Even Gene had had an ex-wife.

Alex sighed, finally getting out of bed to listen to her stomach as it growled mournfully. She opened her fridge, but not much was in it. Finally, she decided on some three day old Chinese that looked like it had seen better days the night that she got it. She grabbed a fork and walked to her couch, turning on the television to watch the news. The newsreader stared at her solemnly.

_Today marks the one year anniversary of the Fenchurch East Massacre, where eleven men and one woman..."_

Alex desperately tried to turn the telly off, but the button had suddenly decided not to work.

"_Former Detective Inspector Alex Drake was the only survivor..."_

She threw the remote at the television as someone knocked on her door. The remote did nothing, merely bouncing against the glass and falling to the floor as the news started to show the warrant card pictures of her friends.

The knock came again, but she didn't hear it. She was transfixed at the television, horrified and desolate. Besides, if they wanted to come in, they could. She had started leaving her door unlocked last year after getting home from hospital in the hopes that someone would come and shoot her in her sleep. Now, it was just habit.

The door opened, but she didn't hear it. She was listening to the newsreader intently.

_Police Constable Nicholas Rowley heard the gunshot and caught a glimpse of the crime in progress. At that moment, he immediately ran for backup and ambulances. Backup arrived, but the men were already gone, leaving the dead and wounded behind. They found the men rushing down the stairwell, still covered in the victims' blood._

The men's mug shots were shown on the television, and Alex finally found it within herself to turn off the telly manually.

"Alex," a voice said softly.

She jumped, turning, looking through her tears to see the woman standing in her flat.

"What the hell do you want?" she asked, her voice thick.

Katherine knelt down next to her, putting her arm around her shoulder.

"You didn't come in for your appointment today. I tried to ring you, but you wouldn't answer. I came in to check to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine, okay. Now just go bloody leave me alone," Alex said, turning all of her misery into fury.

Katherine shook her head. "Not when I've seen you like this. That was a shock for you, Alex."

"You think?" she asked sarcastically, staring at the blank screen.

"I'll make us some tea," Katherine said.

Alex sighed deeply, knowing that being rude wasn't going to make Katherine go away. The only thing that would now was talking.

"I'll make the tea," she said curtly. "After all, I know where the things are."

Katherine smiled sweetly at Alex. Alex merely glared back, starting the kettle and sat down at the table, waiting for it to boil.

"Why didn't you come today?" Katherine asked.

"I didn't get out of bed today."

"I was worried about you," Katherine said. "When you didn't answer your phone, I considered ringing the police."

Alex closed her eyes and sighed, shaking her head. As much as I thought about it today, I couldn't even bring myself close to trying it."

"Why not?"

"Didn't want to go back to the loony bin," she muttered.

"You're acting as though it would have failed."

"I'm the lucky one, aren't I?"

Katherine merely smiled in response.

"No, I didn't go through with it, because when I thought about going to grab the knife, about dropping the toaster in the bath, all I could feel was _disappointment," _she said as the kettle started to whistle. She continued to talk as she prepared the tea. "I was disappointed in myself for trying to give up that easily. I was _reasoning_ with myself. That's the first time that that's happened since before..."

Alex faded out, stirring her tea.

"That's good, though. That's progress."

"But I still don't want to be here," Alex said.

"You haven't found your purpose yet," Katherine replied, taking a sip of her tea. "That's a common trait with everyone, but some people are happy not to have one. You're one of those that needs one."

"I suppose you're right," Alex replied. "After I was separated from Molly and came to work with Gene, I was trying to find my purpose for being here. I never figured out what it was, but I was doing it. I was happy with my life before..."

She trailed off again.

Katherine cocked her head a moment, studying Alex.

"How many days has it been since you've left the flat?"

Alex, surprised by the sudden change in topic, frowned at her. "Erm...Monday."

"And before that?"

"Friday," she admitted.

"Do you ever leave the flat except to come visit me?"

Alex flushed and shook her head.

"You're not helping yourself by doing that, you know? I understand it's hard for you to be around people. But you've got to start introducing yourself to people. Go to the pub. Look for a job. Go to the shops every day. _Anything."_

Katherine frowned, thinking.

"You know what? You're going out with me tonight. It's part of your therapy. You'll shower, put on makeup if you so desire and we'll go out to eat somewhere."

The tone of her voice left no room for argument. Alex looked at her pleadingly, but Katherine merely glared, nodding toward the bedroom. Sighing, Alex got out of the chair and got up to shower. As much as she got irritated by Katherine, she was grateful that the woman was there. She liked Katherine's company.

A little while later, she emerged to Katherine drinking a second cup of tea. Katherine smiled. "That's more like it. Now, where should we go? I know there's a pub down the street..."

"No," Alex said firmly. "There's a nice curry place just down the street. We can go there if you're in the mood for curry?"

"See, now you've found my weakness. I could eat curry every single day of the week and not get tired of it. There's just something about the spices..."

Katherine fell silent for a moment and Alex smiled. "We'll go there, then."

They walked to the restaurant, sitting outside since it was actually a rather nice day. Alex stared at Katherine, debating questioning the woman. She decided not to, instead taking a sip of her water.

"What is it?" Katherine asked.

"What?" Alex said, surprised.

"Either I've got something awkward on my face that you're not telling me about or you want to ask me something. Either way, I want to know."

Alex sighed, smiling. "I...I just want to know more about you."

"What would you like to know?"

Alex shook her head, surprised by the woman's forthrightness. "Anything you'd like to share."

"Well, let's see. One husband, one child. He's four. My son, not my husband."

"What are their names?"

"My husband's name is Anthony. My son's name is Robin."

"How did you get into psychology?"

"Ever since I was a child, I wanted study brains. I loved that how they could control things. How they filled us with our dreams, hopes and fears. They weigh less than 3 pounds, and they control absolutely everything that we do. So I decided to major in it. When I was a kid, people always came to me with their problems anyway, so I figured I might as well make some money off of it."

She smiled and Alex laughed. "What about you, Alex? Why did you become one?"

"Same reasons as you. But in my career, I used it to study the movements of people so I could know their next move before they did. I was a hostage negotiator for a while; that went tits up so I went to Gene's CID."

"What do you mean it went tits up? What happened?"

"The man separated me from Molly," she said firmly, hoping that for once in her life, Katherine would not try and get Alex to expand on the topic. Luckily, at that moment their food arrived.

"I feel bad for keeping you away from your child."

Katherine shook her head. "It's one night out of the week. He'll understand. And so will Anthony. Don't get yourself in a bother about them. They'll live."

Alex gave a soft smile. "Don't spend too much time away from your son. If that's one thing I regret, it's not being around Molly more. She grew up before I knew it. Twelve going on thirty five."

Katherine smiled. "She sounds lovely."

"She is. I miss her."

Alex looked down at her food. Katherine had finished half her meal, but she had barely started. She just wasn't hungry anymore. After seeing Gene's image on the telly...

"Alex, are you okay?" Katherine asked.

"I miss him," she said, trying to control her tears. "Even after all this time...All I can see is him on the ground next to me. That's all I can imagine him as. And then, when I start imagining that, I imagine CID in the backdrop, and then I start living that day over and over again."

Katherine squinted her eyes, thinking.

"Do you have photos?"

Alex nodded. "A few."

"I'm going to switch our appointments on Wednesdays. Instead of coming at one, I'm going to come to your flat at five. We'll have dinner, and from there, we'll go through photos. We'll start tonight. Just let me ring Anthony, and I'll let him know I'll be later than anticipated."

"I can't..."

"Yes you can," Katherine interrupted. "And you're going to let me into your flat or else I'll break the door down."

Alex smiled, appreciating the lengths that this woman went to for her. "Okay," she murmured. "You win. Wednesday nights it is."

* * *

******A/N: **I mentioned a detox from alcohol in this chapter. Heavy drinkers experience a withdrawal, starting 24-72 hours after they are sober. They will sweat, hallucinate, and act extremely erratically during this time. Some people actually try to eat alcohol wipes. They will often have seizures as a result of the toxins leaving the body. It's not pleasant to experience, or to see. I'm not trying to become a walking advert here, but please drink responsibly :)


	5. Screaming

**I _MAY _have gotten slightly more angsty in this chapter... *hides under duvet***

**Chapter 5: Screaming**  
Alex looked into her tea, staring as the milk swirled into it, making it opaque. She smiled softly, watching it turn into a light brown. It was something that she loved to see, like when she opened a jar of peanut butter for the first time. Katherine had been helping her to appreciate the little things. It was only through this, Katherine said, that Alex could learn to appreciate the bigger ones.

It had been four months since the one year anniversary. In that four months, Alex felt as though she had grown phenomenally. Although dark thoughts still plagued her at times, she was no longer the desperate case that she had been.

She glanced out the window. Of course on her day off, it was gloomy and cold. She sighed. Since Luigi had ceased to be her landlord, things at her flat had gone from not the best to utter neglect. The windows leaked, cold draughts always finding their way in. For this reason, she was always wearing a heavy jumper and her thickest socks. She curled up into a ball on the sofa, using the tea to keep her warm. She turned on the television, desperately hoping that something may be on. She doubted it; daytime television was dire even in 2008.

Alex frowned. It had been a while since she had thought about the future. She'd not even seen Molly since before the incident. She had started to forget the things that every mother should know off hand. What colour were Molly's eyes? Which side was her birthmark on? Did she like her hair up or down?

Alex was determined that she was still fighting, however. She would fight, she would always keep fighting, until she finally made it home.

Alex smiled wryly, thinking of what would happen if she did go home. She would probably just disappear from this world. She had once thought that the world wouldn't go on without her, but after the incident, her opinions had changed. Why would she kill the man that she had been in love with? All of her best friends? Why would she make herself suicidal?

No, she had determined long ago that this world, at least in some form, was real.

Alex settled onto the sofa, staring at the clock. In less than an hour, Katherine would be here. They spent Wednesdays talking mostly. She would pull out photos and tell Katherine what had happened in them. Sometimes, they would go out and chat. Alex found that less time was now spent talking about Gene, and more was spent talking about different aspects of her life. Slowly but surely, she was moving on. She wondered if she would ever stop seeing Katherine, if she would ever progress that far.

The television flickered, suddenly gaining sound, even though she had turned the volume all the way down.

"Mummy," Molly's voice said softly.

Alex dropped her tea. The glass thankfully didn't break, but Alex didn't even notice. She stared at the screen in disbelief. Molly was there, sitting on a chair, a school bag slung over the back of it.

"My baby," she whispered, staring at the screen.

"Evan's coming to pick me up around six. Not much happened today. I just went to school. You'd be surprised, Mum. Mornings move so much better. Evan never has to coax me to get out of bed like you did. I'm a golden child now. You wouldn't believe it, if you could see. It was something I was planning on doing when I turned twelve anyway. I decided that I had to start acting more grown up. I remember...I was going to surprise you the day after my birthday with breakfast that I made myself before you ever got up. Mostly because it was a Saturday, and you always slept in late. I knew I wouldn't have to get up too early to beat you. On the weekdays, I thought, you could fend for yourself. There would be no way I'd get out of my bed one minute before seven. But you wouldn't have to get me up during the week.

"That's what Evan is seeing now. Me getting myself up, that is. I think he was surprised, but not nearly as surprised as you would have been. He wasn't there enough in the mornings. Ours were always so hectic. We always were running around like mad, trying to remember everything we had forgotten. You would have thought somewhere along the line, we would have gotten a schedule figured out. I miss it though. The madness." Molly smiled softly, and Alex could see that she was blinking away tears.

Alex could feel her own tears running down her cheeks, falling onto her pyjama bottoms, leaving little wet puddles.

"Our evenings though, those were more relaxed. I remember snuggling up to you on the couch, just to look at your papers. There was always something so exciting about 'classified documents' that I couldn't resist. You always knew what I was doing, though. You'd just smile at me, close up your document, put your arm around me and take a sip out of your wine glass.

"That's what I think I miss most, actually. Those evenings. Just watching telly together, not ever saying anything, knowing it was just you and me. The Molly and Mum show."

Alex let out a huge, gasping sob, wondering how Molly was holding back her tears.

"Mum...This is really hard for me to say..." Molly's voice cracked with emotion.

"I've heard Evan talking to the doctors. He's told me some things as well. The doctor's say you're not going to recover. After that infection..." She took a deep, steadying breath, and tears finally started to roll down her cheeks.

"He said to take you off your nutrition a week ago. All they're doing for you now is swabbing your mouth so it doesn't get too dry. They're just making you comfortable now, Mum. But...you're hanging on. You keep fighting. I know you Mum. You're fighting to wake up, to come back to me. You promised me once, that no matter what, you'd come back. Remember? It was the day I started school, and I was scared because I didn't think you'd come pick me up after. Not with your job. But you said no matter what came up, you'd be there. No matter what happened in your life, you'd come back to take care of me."

Tears were falling fast down Molly's cheeks now, but she didn't wipe them away.

"It's really hard, Mum. But I've come to terms with the fact that this time, you're not coming back to me. But I don't think you've been able to come to terms with it yet. You want your baby. You want to see me grow up, to get my first boyfriend, to see my wedding day, your first grandchild. And I wanted you to see all that too. But seeing you like this... Just let go, Mum. It's _okay _Mum. _It's okay to let go._ I love you so much, Mum. I always will. But it's okay that you're not coming back this time. It's alright that we can't blow out the candles together. You don't have to fight anymore. I understand why you can't make it back. I'll be fine. I just want you to be at peace, Mum. And prolonging the inevitable just makes it harder for everyone. I love you so, so much, but this time, just...just let me go."

Alex stared miserably at the screen as it went blank, as the sound of a monitor flat lining buzzed in her ears.

"Goodbye, Mum," she heard Molly whisper. "I love you."

"No," Alex said, disbelieving. "No! Molly, NO! GOD DAMN YOU LET ME COME BACK!"

She knew though, that it was too late. Molly was gone to her forever, just like everyone else that she had ever grown to love. Her mother, her father, Gene, Shaz, Chris, Ray, Molly, Viv...

The names kept going through her head over and over again. She was suddenly furious, screaming to the air.

"Is this some kind of _fucking joke? _Let's see how miserable we can make Alex before she ends up completely insane? God! I was _doing better!"_

Alex started throwing things across the room. Anything that came in her way ended up thrown against the wall. Even the mug that had once held her tea was now shattered against the wall.

"Screw you!" she yelled to the air. "Screw you all! I'm fucking DONE!"

She grabbed the nearest thing and hurled it against the door, getting angrier when she realised it was her bottle of vodka.

She smiled cruelly, walking back to her kitchen. She opened one of the drawers and pulled out her largest knife.

"One quick slice," she murmured to herself, watching the knife glint evilly in the light. "One slice, and it will be too late."

She held the knife over her arm gripping it so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"_Adieu, monde cruel," _she murmured happily, knowing she was being clichéd, but feeling slightly less so saying the phrase in French.

"Alex?" a horrified voice asked.

Alex looked up, dismayed. Katherine was standing in an alcohol soaked patch by the front door, a look of shock on her face.

"Alex," Katherine said softly. "Drop the knife."

Alex shook her head vigorously. "I'm going to do it this time, Katherine. I swear to God, I've had it."

Katherine frowned. "What happened to the woman from four months ago? The woman who thought about throwing the toaster in the bath with her? The one who felt disappointed about even thinking like that?"

Alex stared at her, feeling almost animalistic. She ran her tongue along her teeth and smiled wolfishly. "She's disappeared."

"Alex, come on. Just think this through."

"I have. That's all I've done for a year and a fucking half, Katherine. I'm tired of thinking. I just want to stop. I want everything to stop."

Her voice cracked and tears formed in her eyes. "_Why _does everyone else get to move on, but I'm stuck here, all alone? And don't tell me it's because I've got a sodding purpose I need to find."

Katherine held her hands up in the air. "Fine, Alex. You win. Kill yourself," she said firmly. Alex recognised the technique she was trying to use. She was trying to shock Alex into realising that there was life still to live. Alex knew the trick, and wasn't going to let it work.

"Leave me here, standing in horror. Robin will wonder why Mummy's come home in tears. He'll think he's done something wrong. You know, you never got to meet him? I was going to bring him round one night. He's asked me who I go to see on Wednesdays, you know?"

"Yes. Go on about your _child_," Alex said her voice dripping with contempt. "Go on and on about him, when you know that I _don't sodding have one anymore._"

Alex burst into tears again as she remembered the reason she had the blade hovering over her skin.

Katherine tilted her head slightly. "Is that what's triggered this?"

"I just lost my child," Alex said, snapping. "She's gone forever. And I don't have a life here anyway. I haven't been able to feel anything since Gene got himself bloody shot in the _sodding chest!_"

She lowered the blade, feeling the cool metal touch her skin.

"Gene didn't mean to get himself shot," Katherine said softly, staring at her, concerned. "And why don't you tell me what's happened with your daughter?"

"She told me that it was over," Alex said. "Everything's over. She's moved on. She's moved past me. She doesn't want me anymore."

Katherine frowned. "Alex...what are you talking about? You said that you were separated after you failed to talk down a suspect."

Alex stared at her, trying to fully remember the story. However, as much as she tried, she couldn't remember the story she knew was right. Finally, she went with the one that was in the forefront of her thoughts.

"She...We were. She was...she was shot by him. By the man. Because she was afraid I'd get killed in front of her. He didn't even blink. He just shot her. Straight through the head. She didn't stand a fucking chance in hell. I transferred to Fenchurch right after, but then, I'd see her. Like I saw Gene. And I saw her today. And she told me to let go of her."

"Listen to her," Katherine said softly. "Just like when Gene told you to let go of him."

"But if I let go of her, I have nothing," she murmured.

"You'll have me," Katherine promised, holding her hand out. "Alex, give me the knife."

Alex's grip tightened, and she accidently pressed down. The tip of the blade cut against her skin and she gasped, dropping the knife even as blood started to flow.

"I felt it..." she murmured, not noticing as Katherine rushed towards her, kicking the knife away. "I felt the pain. _This is where I'm alive."_


	6. Antiques

**I've done a nice chap! It's because of the constant threat of crocodiles...*Snap!* NO I POSTED THE CHAPTER *Snap snap!* NOOOOOOOOOOOOO PLEASE I SWEAR IT'S NICE*SNAP SNAP SNAP* NOOOOOOOOOOO *trails off into a gurgle, croc still snapping evilly***

**GODDAMMIT SIMON! THIS IS WHY YOU CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING!**

**Chapter 6: Antiques**

**September, 1987**

Alex smiled and nodded as two customers entered the shop, standing behind the till. It had been over three years since the incident – she still couldn't call it a massacre – and she had finally started to move on. After Katherine had found her with the knife in her hands, she had spent another month in hospital, but she was determined now never to go back. She had turned a corner when she was there and come out stronger than she thought imaginable.

Oh, she had been angry at first. She had been extremely angry with Katherine, refusing to even talk to her for a few days. She had been even more furious at herself for trying. She had hated staring at the sterile white bandage covering her wrist; she had actually cut it quite deep.

After they had stitched her wrist, she had immediately been sent for observation and treatment. Alex wouldn't talk to anyone for nearly a week, spending the time flexing her wrist back and forth, feeling the pain it caused when it moved. She had sat up in bed at night, just staring at it, knowing that the staff was talking about her quietly in the corridors, wondering if she had gone completely insane. She knew that Katherine was worried as well; even when she was seeing Gene, she hadn't acted like that.

But as Alex explained later, the morbid fascination with that wrist was the feeling of the pain. She remembered Sam telling her about Nelson, the barman from The Railway Arms.

_If you can feel, you're alive. When you don't, you're not. _

The pain from the wound had been a shock. She had thought that she had gone numb, but realised that all the emotional turmoil she was feeling meant that she was alive in one way, and the physical pain showed that she was alive in another. Sam had jumped off a building because he couldn't feel the cut into his thumb. She could feel the cut on her wrist. So why should she jump?

It was after this that she had finally started to regain hope. She had known that if she could feel anger and torment, she could feel happiness and joy eventually. She had focused on that thought and by day twenty-eight of her section, she was allowed to leave.

Her previous job, working as a secretary two days a week, had been terminated the moment she entered hospital. They had told her that they couldn't afford to lose that position and sent her on her merry way. She had shown two fingers to the boss and walked out, starting to search desperately for a new job. She had almost given up hope, when she found a job at an antiques shop. The woman who owned it had heard of her, and hired Alex out of pity. Since then, she had worked as hard as she could, keeping the place as neat as possible and standing behind the till. The woman had been impressed by her work, and quickly had given her a raise.

Alex didn't care about the money. This was one of the few things that kept her content with her life.

The bell tinkled as someone walked into the shop. She looked toward the front to see a tall, handsome man walking through.

_Well,_ she thought wryly. _That's a new thought for you. Handsome? No one's been handsome for over a while, have they?_

She enjoyed that she had the thought though. It was a mark of progress. She could tell Katherine about it later at her bi-weekly appointment. She had been three days a week again after her release from hospital, but eventually moved down to two. Katherine never seemed to run out of time for Alex's problems and insisted that Alex ring her whenever she needed to. Alex had tried to avoid doing this, but one night, she was feeling so desperate, she had. Katherine had rushed over at nearly midnight, her hair tied messily into a ponytail and wearing jeans and a jumper. It was the first time that Alex had seen Katherine in something besides black or grey. After that, Alex rang her freely, but made sure that she actually needed Katherine, and wasn't just ringing her for company. It was only because of getting that number that Alex hadn't ended up in hospital again. Katherine would make her talk through things sensibly when the darkness came to eat away at her happiness.

The man was walking through the shop, looking around, slightly confused. Alex stepped out from behind the till.

"Can I help you?" she asked. The man looked at her and smiled. "I'm trying to find something for my wife, and she likes old things."

"Well, you've come to the right place," she laughed. "Do you know what she likes? Trinkets, books, clocks, jewellery?"

"That one!" the man said suddenly, pointing at her and making her jump. "Jewellery. Oh, sorry," he said, noticing that he had made her jump. "I just...I've been into four of these places and you're the only one who's helped me."

Alex smiled. "That's what I'm here to do. Our selection of jewellery is over here..."

"Wait a second," the man said. "I know your face."

Alex sighed inwardly. Here came the 'woman who lived' bollocks again.

"You were that DI. The only one that survived the..." The man stopped himself. "I'm sorry. I don't want to bring up everything that happened, especially when you appear to be dealing with it."

Alex frowned. "How do you mean?"

"The fact that you're still alive, for one. I can't tell you what I would have done if that had happened to me, but I probably wouldn't be standing here today."

Alex smiled bitterly. "It wasn't for lack of trying," she said. "I almost joined them about a month after it happened."

"What happened?" the man asked, genuinely interested.

"My psychologist sent over someone to check on me and she caught me. Then I headed on over to Bethlem Royal for a nice stay." Alex stopped herself. "God, I'm sorry, you must think I'm mental now."

The man shook his head. "No, I don't. Honestly. I respect you. You've gone through what no one else has, and you've _survived. _Not only that, but you're putting your life back together again. I guess I should tell you my name. I'm James Grant. I've written a few books and I do interviews for the papers. But...can I write your story?"

Alex stared at the man, her mouth wide open for a moment before she caught herself. "What?"

"I want to write about what's happened to you," he said. "If you would let me, I would interview you about what happened and the aftermath."

"I...I don't know," she said.

"I know it's really rude and forward to ask you, but I think I could do your story justice. _Please,_ will you consider it? If you want, I could send you over some manuscripts of mine to read."

Alex was completely taken aback. She had never imagined anything like this happening. She didn't know if she could sit down and talk about it with anyone other than Katherine. But the man looked so hopeful, she didn't want to say no.

"I'll...I'll think about it," she said.

The man smiled. "Great. Here's my number. Ring me with your answer. I'm not usually in before six."

Alex gave an unsure smile back. "Did you still want to look at the jewellery?" she asked.

"Oh, right! Yes. It's our anniversary tomorrow and Grace will kill me if she thinks I've forgotten."

He smiled at her, and as the sale wore on, Alex found herself laughing, something rare for her even now. When he finally left the shop, the owner came over, smiling.

The owner was a tall woman in her late thirties with brown hair. Her real name was Sarah, but for some reason, she went by Stevie.

"That was a fine specimen," Stevie said, raising her eyebrows, nearly tripping as she walked over. For working in a shop with what could be priceless antiques, Stevie was incredibly clumsy.

Alex smiled. "He wasn't bad," she said softly. "Personally I'm more for blondes."

"As long as they don't try to grow a beard," Stevie said. "You can't see it until you're about to kiss them and then it puts everything off."

Alex smiled. "I do prefer a clean-shaven man," she murmured.

Alex had found that she had grown quieter, receding within herself and not offering her opinion on things that didn't matter. She had always been abrasive before and now, she was much more of a gentle soul. Part of that was because she wanted to blend into the woodwork, but part of that was the way that the trauma had changed her.

"You should ring him," Stevie said mischievously. "I saw him give you his number." Stevie was forever trying to get her to go on a date with a man. It wasn't that she hadn't had men interested in her, it was that she had no interest in any of them.

"He's married," Alex said, giving Stevie a look.

Stevie just shrugged. "Doesn't have to stop you."

Alex merely shook her head. "The wedding ring is the ultimate stop sign for me. I could never."

Stevie grinned. "Your loss."

Alex smiled back, looking at the clock. "Well, that's me off," she said. "I've got my appointment today."

Stevie nodded. "Have a good natter. And if a man stops you on your way home, for God's sake let him ravish you!"

Alex raised her eyebrows and grabbed her jacket, walking out of the shop. It was odd, since Gene's death, she hadn't found many men attractive, but women were having the opposite effect on her. She'd never classified herself as bisexual, but that didn't mean there hadn't been an experience or two in Uni that she'd had. She'd always liked the idea and had been brave enough to experiment in Uni, but when she got pregnant by Pete, that had been that. Afterwards, there wasn't really a thought in her mind about it, but now...

Alex blushed at her own thoughts as she walked into Katherine's office. Katherine smiled as Alex sat down across from her. Alex was always her last appointment and they usually ended up going out for dinner. Alex knew that this had broken the professional barrier, but if Katherine didn't care, then she didn't either. That was why she respected Katherine so much. Katherine had realised that she didn't just need a psychologist, she needed a friend, and that's what she had become. It was for that thought that Alex would be eternally grateful.

"You've got the oddest look on your face," Katherine said.

"I've had an odd day."

"Oh? What happened?"

"This man came into the store today, and he's an author."

Katherine nodded knowingly. "Moving on from the dashing blonde?" she said.

Alex shook her head. "Way off base, actually. Although, you're partially right. I did find him handsome, and that hasn't happened for a while."

"What happened then?"

"He asked to write a book about me."

Katherine frowned. "He what?"

"He said that he respected me for what I'd done, getting through it, and then asked if he could write a book about my experience."

"Well, what did you say?"

Alex stared at the woman for a long moment before casting down her eyes. "I told him I'd think about it."

Katherine smiled. "You should do it."

Alex looked up, disconcerted.

"What?"

"You know you can talk about what happened. You've done it before. And this will stop the world from forever staring at you. And maybe, you'll learn something about yourself in the process."

Alex looked at Katherine. Her appearance hadn't changed from day one. Her professional wardrobe was still drab and grey and her hair was getting mousier as it got greyer, but this Katherine was the one person that she really trusted.

"If I do this," she said. "Will you go with me? For support?"

Katherine smiled softly. "Of course I will, Alex. You just let me know the date and time. I'll clear my schedule for you."

Alex looked down and smiled. "You're a star, Kathie," she said.

"I know."

Alex gave a small laugh and then raised her eyebrows.

"Well, I guess I'll go ring the man then! I'll ring you when I have the time set up."

Katherine smiled. "I'll see you next time, Alex."

**So...if you can tell me what show the character Stevie is based off of, you get a free giraffe or something!**

**Also: Maybe I shouldn't ****do A/N's when I've been up for 18 hours, eh?**


	7. Coffee

**Chapter 7: Coffee**

**October, 1987**

Alex sat at the table, waiting for James, nervously fiddling with a pen. Katherine was sitting next to her. She shifted around, seeming irritated before she finally put a hand on Alex's shoulder.

"Relax, Alex," she murmured.

"I can't," Alex replied, accidentally flipping the pen across the room and hitting some unfortunate woman in the head. She looked down as the woman looked across the room angrily. "I'm too nervous. I don't think I can live through this again."

"You'll do fine," Katherine reassured her.

Alex started to fiddle with her spoon. "I hope so," she said.

At that moment, James entered the little coffee shop. He smiled at the pair and extended his hand. "Thank you for agreeing to do this Alex. I think it's finally time that your story gets out."

"Do you think that anyone will read it?" Alex asked.

James shrugged. "I believe so. Humans have a natural curiosity for incidents that deny human nature."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "You're right."

"So," James said, pulling out a Dictaphone. "Where do you want to begin?"

Alex smiled at the Dictaphone, the nostalgia for the days when she had first transferred to Fenchurch East overwhelming her. After a moment, however, she started to speak.

"The most remarkable thing about that Monday was how normal everything started out," she began.

Alex talked for nearly three hours, and most of the clientele in the coffee shop had disappeared by the time she finished. She had cried more than once, but Katherine had never needed to nudge her to continue, and James let her talk for the most part, only asking clarifying questions here and there. There were tears in his eyes too as he finally turned off the Dictaphone.

"Do you have everything?" she asked.

James nodded. "I think so. I'll contact you with questions."

"When you do this, I want one thing in return."

"What percent?" James asked.

Alex shook her head, a soft smile appearing on her face. "Do you think I'm really that hard hearted? Giving you my story just so I could make a profit? I'm not that way, James."

James put his hands in the air. "I'm sorry. That's usually the first thing out of people's mouths. I didn't think."

Alex smiled at him again. "What I want is for their pictures to be in the book. I want a mini-biography about them. I'll give you a work version, and you can try to get a family version. If you can get the family version, I want that in there for them."

James swallowed, nodding his head. "I will make sure that we can do that," he promised. "I'll let you know who you need to write for. I will be in contact with you, hopefully sooner, rather than later. Thank you so much for your time, Alex."

Alex nodded, smiling as he walked out. Katherine nudged her. "You did fantastic, Alex."

"I can't believe I did that," she replied. "And it felt...good..."

Katherine smiled. "I think with that, you don't need a psychologist anymore. But if you ever want to get together, or if you ever have a problem, you can ring me. I want to be thought of as your friend now."

Alex smiled. "Thank you," she replied, surprising Katherine by giving her a hug. They squeezed each other tightly, before Alex finally broke away.

Katherine looked at her watch. "I've got to go, but I'd like to have dinner with you. Ring me and we'll set up a time."

Alex nodded. "I will."

Katherine smiled and waved as she left, leaving Alex sitting at the table, amazed at what she had done.

Suddenly, a pen was set on the table in front of her. "I believe this is yours," said a voice. "I found it in my hair a few hours ago."

Alex looked up nervously. A woman was standing there, looking at her with a stern expression. She had blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She was wearing a batwing top and skinny jeans and had a figure that would make a supermodel jealous. Alex's first thought was of how gorgeous she was.

_I always did prefer blondes, _she thought wryly.

"I'm sorry," she managed eventually. "I was nervous and it flew out of my hands."

The woman cocked an eyebrow, looking more amused than stern. "I was going to return it earlier, but I didn't want to intrude. You seemed to be in some sort of emotional turmoil."

Alex smiled sheepishly. "He was interviewing me. For a book."

The woman frowned, interested. "What about?"

Alex licked her lips nervously, anticipating the woman's reaction. "The Fenchurch East...Massacre," she managed.

The woman's face dawned with sudden realisation and horror. "You're...you're Alex Drake?"

Alex nodded.

"God," the woman murmured. "I can't believe that you were strong enough to be able to get that story out."

Alex smiled. "Neither can I." She motioned to the chair. "Would you like to sit down? We can get a coffee if you like."

The woman looked at the chair to Alex, surprised. "If...if you want my company."

Alex smiled and nodded. The woman sat down across from Alex, still seeming somewhat awestruck.

"I suppose I should introduce myself," the woman said. "My name is Kayleigh Schofield."

Alex smiled at the woman. "You know my name." An awkward silence fell between them and she could tell that Kayleigh still felt awkward about who Alex really was.

"I'm...I'm sorry about the pen," Alex said, fiddling with it now that it had been given back to her.

Kayleigh smiled. "It's okay. You know, I didn't stay to tell you off. I could have taken the pen."

"Well, I appreciate you bringing it back then!" Alex laughed. "Why did you stay, if it wasn't to give me back the pen?"

Kayleigh blushed slightly. "This is going to sound odd, but I can...pick up signals from people. Their general mood, etcetera. When I glanced back at you, even though you were with that woman, I just got a blast of overwhelming _loneliness."_

"So you felt sorry for me and came over?"

"I have this horrible need to make everyone feel better, no matter what. I just took one look at you and I wanted you to feel better. I..." She coughed, scratching the back of her neck and looking out the window before speaking again.

"I wanted to give you a friend, because when I saw you, I felt like that's what you _needed._"

Alex stared at the woman, who was now very red faced indeed. She looked down at her coffee, and then back up to Kayleigh, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Your gift," she said. "It's interesting. Almost psychic."

"I wouldn't call it psychic. I can't see the future or anything. I just get a feel of how people really feel. A kind of absolute honesty, which can be really irritating sometimes."

"Oh? How do you mean?"

"You know, someone I really like, I go near them and their mood changes from happy to bitter in an instant. Realising that I'm the cause of that. I'd rather live in blissful ignorance."

Alex smiled softly. "I can understand that. I don't have your gift, but I know how everyone feels as soon as they meet me. I can see it on their faces...the pity. It irritates me to no end. I've never wanted pity from anyone. That's why I'm hoping the book will make things better."

"How do you mean?"

"If people can see how I've recovered, maybe they'll stop labelling me as 'that poor woman.' I just want to fit into society again."

"Well then, to me, you're just Alex Drake, a nice woman who I met at the coffee shop. Your past doesn't matter."

Alex smiled gratefully. "That means more than you know."

"So what else is there to know, Alex? I know that one event in your history, but that's it."

Alex shook her head softly. "I'll just depress you. My life is nothing but sad tales entwined together by my desperate attempts to put some happiness in along the way."

Kayleigh frowned. "Very poetic, but you're not going to scare me away. Tell me about your parents."

Alex smiled to herself. This woman wasn't going to believe her until she told her her whole life story. Well, what would it hurt? At least, if she scared the woman off, she had only known her for a few hours.

"I grew up, thinking my dad was the best person in the world. He would read to me every night he was home. It was _The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. _We must have read it twenty times. It was my absolute favourite, and he would put on voices for all the characters.

"I always thought I was a burden on my Mum. She was the disciplinarian of the family though. She was more likely to be home than my dad, so of course she got that role. My mum realised that though. She decided to take a sabbatical from her job – she was a solicitor – and just spend time with me. We were getting ready to leave that day, and my parents were murdered. I found out only a few years ago that my father had arranged it. I lived with my godfather though, and he put me through school and University until I joined the police force."

Kayleigh looked dumbstruck.

"What about you?" Alex asked. "What's your life been like?"

"I had a normal middle class childhood. I felt so stifled though, that I became a bit of a wild child when I went to University. Slept around, didn't matter what pair of equipment the person had, as long as they could pleasure me, I was more than happy to sleep with them. That ended quite suddenly when I realised I was pregnant. He was my steady boyfriend at the time, so I wasn't sleeping around and knew that he was the father, at least. We got married: I was only twenty-one. We stayed together for about six years and had another two children. Then we got into a huge fight and one thing led to another and he walked out. I've got the kids."

"How old are they?"

"Fourteen, thirteen and ten. The older two are girls and the younger one's a boy. Carrie, Ella, and Michael. All three a complete handful since they were born. We were half convinced Michael was a goat for a while. He didn't stop eating clothes until he was six."

Alex laughed before responding.

"My daughter was the same way. Well, by being a handful. She tried to grow up too fast. Twelve going on thirty-five, I used to say."

"Was?" Kayleigh asked.

"I used to be a hostage negotiator. I was trying to talk down a suspect and she got afraid and ran towards me. The man didn't even blink...he just shot her...right in the forehead. She was dead on the scene."

"Oh my god," Kayleigh said, horrified.

"I told you I'd depress you."

"How can you make it through all that?" Kayleigh asked, awestruck.

"Because I had to. After my husband and I split up, I got bitter and hardened myself to the world. After I lost Molly, I made my barrier more impenetrable, but Gene broke it down. After he died, I found it again for a while."

"You don't seem to have it now."

Alex smiled gently. "I've been seeing a psychologist for four and a half years. She's helped a lot."

"I'm just...I'm speechless...Well, not literally. You know, since I said those words. Oh, now I just can't stop talking. I'm really rambling aren't I? Oh God I'm sorry. I'm just...vomiting words. Oh God I'll stop now."

Alex started to laugh. "I'll tell you what. I'll give you a day to get coherent, and we'll go out for dinner tomorrow night. How does that sound?"

Kayleigh smiled. "That sounds brilliant. Carrie can watch the younger two. Can I er...borrow your pen?"

Alex handed it over and Kayleigh scrawled a number onto a napkin. "Ring me and let me know the time and place."

Alex nodded. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow."


	8. Sentiment

**First of all: I am so sorry that this chapter is late! I had MASSIVE writer's block and couldn't get to my minimum word limit and the chapter seemed stunted anyways. So that brings me to my second point:**

***Presents xxMisty with a stethoscope* I have her to thank for curing my writer's block, so thakn you! Service shall resume as scheduled this week ;)**

**Chapter 8: Sentiment**

**January, 1988**

Alex sat across from Katherine, picking at the food on her plate.

"What's on your mind?" Katherine asked.

"First off the idea that if I keep eating out every other night the pounds are never going to come off."

"You've not eaten with me for nearly two weeks. Who have you been going out with?"

Alex smiled, looking down at her meal.

"Kayleigh again?" Katherine asked.

Alex nodded. She and Kayleigh had been going out for dinner almost every other night since they had first met. They had revelled in each other's company, laughing and swapping stories about each other. She had met Kayleigh's children a few weeks before and they had all been lovely, all bubbling with youthful enthusiasm. Yesterday had been Michael's eleventh birthday and they had finished off the celebration by sitting on the sofa, bringing out old photo albums of him as a baby. Alex had been quite concerned about the number of photos of him with someone's clothing in his mouth. But it hadn't only been clothing either. There were also photos of him with headphones in his mouth, the strap of a handbag, and one photo of him trying to eat a corner of the television. He had grinned proudly at that one. Kayleigh had teased him gently before eventually sending him to bed. Carrie had gone to a friend's house, and Emma had gone upstairs to read. It was what happened afterward that made Alex ring Katherine that morning.

"So, Alex, what's going on in your brain?"

"I'm not really sure. That's why I rang you. Last night I was with Kayleigh...and we kissed."

Katherine frowned. "Properly?"

"Is there an improper way to do it?" Alex found that she got incredibly snarky when she was extremely embarrassed.

"You know what I mean."

Alex finally nodded. "Her kids were upstairs and we were on the sofa and laughing and then suddenly...we kissed."

"Did you pull away?"

Alex shook her head. "No. I let it continue. I _liked _it. And that's what confuses me. Since Gene died, I haven't found men attractive in the slightest. I'll look at them and go 'Oh he's nice, he's fit,' but I don't have any real feeling for them. But then Kayleigh came along a few months ago, and instantly, there was a desire I hadn't felt since Gene's death."

"Would you consider yourself bisexual?"

Alex played with the food on her plate, considering. "I don't know. I mean, I slept with girls at Uni on occasion, but after having Molly, I never gave it a second thought. I figured it would always be men, but now..."

"Now you're attracted to women," Katherine finished.

Alex nodded. "I don't understand it."

"It's easy. Gene was the _only_ man for you. When you look at men now, you judge them against him, but women, you can't compare them to him. I don't think someone is strictly straight or gay. I think that we're all a bit of both, and since Gene's death, the side of you that you had in college, the side that likes women, is coming to the forefront."

"So it's okay that that happened?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Katherine shrugged.

"Most people don't have your point of view..."

Katherine smiled. "I have a brother who is gay. I have clients that are gay. Hell, one time I had a man come in for therapy and ran out crying because my son's name was Robin, which was the name of the man who he was trying to get over. I honestly don't care what you identify as or who you're shagging. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters."

Alex gave a giant smile. "Thank you," she murmured.

Katherine smiled back. "Now eat your food. You may say that you eat out all the time, but you still look like a waif. I wish I could eat like you do."

Alex smiled gently, looking down at her plate of pasta. What Katherine didn't realise, was if she didn't go out to eat, she usually didn't eat. Even now, four and a half years since the massacre, she could not find an appetite. Kayleigh had realised this a few months earlier and now was inviting her over every day for dinner, so that she would eat more than once every few days. If Alex refused, she would throw a fuss. Combined with this and Stevie ordering takeaway nearly every day, she was slowly starting to notice that her once extremely loose jeans were fitting her form. Kayleigh was encouraging the weight gain, saying that the few pounds made her figure look better than ever.

"What else is going on with your life?" Katherine asked. "God, not seeing you for two weeks makes me feel like I'm completely out of the loop."

"Well, James has finished the book but it's still got a ways to go before it's published. He told me right now that he's collecting biographies to put at the back and then he'll send it all in to the publisher."

"How do you feel about it getting published?"

"I dunno. I'm kind of concerned. I don't want any more attention on me than what's already there and this will bring everything to the forefront, you know?

"I think you worry too much, Alex."

Alex smiled ruefully at her food. "There's a reason for that."

Katherine smiled at her, eating another bite of food. The rest of the meal passed in quiet conversation and eventually they parted, hugging before they left each other. Instead of going home, however, Alex headed to Kayleigh's house. To her surprise, Carrie opened the door.

"Mum's not home yet. She'll be another ten minutes or so. You can come in though."

Alex smiled, and Carrie led her to the sofa. "She took Michael to get his hair cut. He was pissed off. His goal was to look like Bowie in Labyrinth. Mum wasn't happy."

Alex laughed, and Carrie stared at her quizzically. "You and Mum spend a lot of time together."

"She's become my best friend," Alex admitted honestly. "I haven't had one for years."

"Mum said that. She said that you had something bad happen a few years back." Alex looked at the girl's face and could tell she knew more than she was letting on. However, Alex decided to go along with her questions.

"Very bad," Alex replied. "And I lost all my friends. And I didn't want any for a very long time."

"But now you do?"

"I'm only just able to accept the idea of friends."

Carrie frowned, her eyes hiding something. "I don't understand why you wouldn't want friends after you lost yours. Surely that would have been extremely lonely?"

"It was. But for a while, I liked it."

"You're confusing, you know that?"

"I do. I used to get called a fruitcake on nearly a daily basis."

"By one of your old friends?"

Alex nodded, responding. "By my very best friend."

"How were they your best friend if they always made fun of you?"

"Sometimes, when you're really close friends, you're mean to each other all the time. But you don't mean it."

Carrie raised her eyebrows. "Right," she said frostily, standing up and walking out of the room.

As Carrie walked away, Alex heard car doors slam outside. A few seconds later, Kayleigh walked into the house, looking flustered. Michael came in after her, glowering, and running his hands through much shorter hair.

"Alex, I'm so sorry. I had to take him to get that mop cut off his head. He threw a fit, and that's why I was late."

"I wanted to look like the Goblin King!" Michael whined.

"You are a goblin!" Carrie called from upstairs.

"Carrie behave!" Kayleigh said loudly before turning to Michael. "Why don't you go upstairs?"

Michael glared at her before obeying and stomping up the stairs. "When I move out I'm _never_ cutting my hair!" he called.

Kayleigh just made a face. "He's been saying that the entire way here. I'm sorry you had to see that."

Alex smiled. "It's okay."

"Do you want coffee?"

"Sure."

They went to Kayleigh's kitchen, where she started to make the coffee. Alex sat at the table while Kayleigh absentmindedly pulled the things out. Finally she sat down and they stared at each other, a moment too long. Finally, Alex looked down, staring at her mug.

"About last night," Kayleigh said.

Alex looked up nervously.

"I should regret it, but I don't," Kayleigh said.

Alex smiled gently. "I don't either."

Kayleigh looked surprised. "You don't regret it? Last night, you seemed so nervous."

"The last time I kissed a woman, I was in Uni. After...what happened...I didn't think I could feel anything for _anyone._"

"You...you feel something for me?"

Alex felt herself slowly going red. "I...I didn't feel it until last night, but after we kissed...I felt something. I didn't think it was possible, but...I think...I think I've...fallen in love with you, Kayleigh."

Kayleigh looked stunned. "You've...fallen...in _love?"_

Alex knew that her face was beet red right now and wished that she had an impenetrable duvet that was a foot thick that she could hide under. However, she nodded.

"You've...fallen in love...with _me._" It was a statement, not a question, more of surprise than anything else.

Alex nodded again and Kayleigh broke out into a huge smile. "Alex..." she murmured, leaning forward to hug her. Kayleigh pressed her lips to Alex's temple before whispering in her ear. "I've...I've fallen in love with you too."

Alex was stunned. The kiss last night was a signal, but somehow, Kayleigh had taken her completely by surprise.

"What?"

"When I saw you...all those months ago...I thought you needed a friend. But now...I realise...you had friends. Not many, but you had Katherine. You had Stevie. What you need, Alex, what I think you need...is a lover."

Kayleigh's lower lip was caught beneath her teeth, and she looked uncomfortable, as though she said too much.

Alex shook her head. "No," she whispered. "What I needed then was a friend. What I need now is _you._" She leaned forward hesitating a moment before claiming Kayleigh's lips, spilling her coffee. Neither cared as the lukewarm liquid stained their jeans, their hands moving up into hair and down to the waist. They stood, holding each other as close as possible, their tongues entwined.

"Mum, I've got this maths...Oh Christ..." a voice interrupted.

Alex and Kayleigh broke apart, panting, staring at the girl who interrupted them.

Carrie stood there, mouth agape, her eyes flicking from Alex to Kayleigh.

"Seriously?" she asked disbelievingly before turning to Alex, venom in her eyes. "You said she was your best friend. You didn't say you were fucking her."

"Carrie!" Kayleigh said. "How dare you use that word?"

"What are you doing Mum? How long were you going to keep this from us?"

Kayleigh sighed. "I'll talk to you later."

"No. I want to talk to you _now_," Carrie said, glaring at Alex. Alex could tell by her tone that the girl was only going to throw a tantrum worthy of a three-year-old if Kayleigh refused.

"Fine," Kayleigh said, knowing that this was one battle not to fight. She opened the door to the back garden and they stood outside, Carrie starting to rant at her mother.

Alex looked down at the spilled coffee on the floor guiltily, and went to grab a towel to mop it up.

"Mum, seriously. I know what happened to her. I read the papers."

"You were ten!"

"So? I remember the night that it happened. Dad had gotten drunk again and decided to stop by and yell at the door, accusing you of taking his children. I didn't want to listen to you two fight again, so I turned on the telly. The news was on. I heard the story on the news, Mum. And then you come wandering home a few months ago, talking about Alex this, Alex that, she needs a bloody friend, blah blah blah. I heard you on the phone to her Mum. You were so serious that night. I snuck down from my room to listen. I heard the only word that I needed to... 'suicide'. Mum, if you get together with her, what's going to happen when she finally tips over the edge? What's going to happen when one day, when she takes too many pills on purpose, or ties a noose on one of the banisters? What happens then? What happens to _you?"_

Alex chanced a look at Kayleigh's face to see tears in the woman's eyes. Kayleigh grabbed her daughter tightly.

"I love you Mum. Dad hurt you bad enough. I don't want her to hurt you too."

Kayleigh shook her head, pressing a kiss against Carrie's hair. "She's not like that anymore, Carrie."

Carrie frowned and looked at her mother. "How do you know?"

"That night, that we were talking, that you heard the word 'suicide,' she was telling me about her past. It was about a year and a half after the Massacre. She had just come to terms with losing her colleagues, and then she realised about her daughter."

"Her daughter?"

"She would have been a few years older than you. She lost her daughter right before transferring to Fenchurch East. And she suppressed it. And then it hit her."

"So she _did _try."

"Yes, but it's been over three years, honey. She told me how she found the will to live after that. Alex has come _so _far from that point. She's told me the story, and I'm not going to tell you everything, that's her place, but from where she started out, it is amazing that she is standing here today. And I met this woman a few months ago, and she looked so lonely, she looked so sad, and now that I'm with her, I see her brightening up. Do you know, she hardly smiled when we first starting going to dinners together."

"She smiles a lot more now."

"She does. Part of it is because she has gotten everything out by doing the book. And I want to say that some of it is me. But I love her, Carrie, and that should be good enough for you."

Alex walked away from the door, amazed, kneeling down to clean up the coffee. In her shock, she knocked over a box of cornflakes and they fell into the cold puddle. At one point in her life, she would have sworn, kneeling down angrily to clean it up. But now, she stared at the soggy cornflakes and smiled. She never thought it would happen again, but she was in love. Who cared that she was in love with a woman? The only thing that mattered was that Kayleigh loved her back. Kayleigh loved her completely. And that would be the only thing that would ever matter.

**This chapter is dedicated to those affected by the shooting in the Colorado movie theatre. **


	9. Biographies

**Chapter 9: Biographies**

**July, 1989**

Alex stared out the window of the small cafe where she had met James to tell her story. It was hard to believe that it had been a year and a half since she had first met him here. Finally, her book had been published, and he was coming to give her a copy. Kayleigh was sitting next to her, smiling at her cup of coffee.

"You look happy," Alex said.

Kayleigh grinned. "I just remembered that if you hadn't have written this book, we wouldn't have met. And then what would have happened?"

"I'd be living a life where I didn't have to worry about someone throwing a banana at me for breakfast."

"I wouldn't have to throw things at you if you'd just eat it!" Kayleigh responded indignantly. "You know what they say..."

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Alex finished for her. "Yes, I realise that, but I've never eaten it."

"How did you ever manage without me?" Kayleigh asked playfully.

"Well, I didn't ever have to watch out for rogue bananas," Alex replied, deadpan.

Kayleigh just smirked before speaking again. "Look, I'm not asking you to have a fry up every morning..."

"I know it's supposed to be good for me, but I just can't eat when I wake up. I get all nauseous. I'm fine with my coffee."

"If you can drink it without spilling it down yourself."

"I only did that once!" Alex said, trying not to laugh. "And if I remember right, that was because you were...distracting me..."

Before Kayleigh could respond, a man sat down at their table. They both looked up, surprised.

"We did say ten, didn't we?" James asked, smiling. "You both just look so shocked to see me, I thought I might have gotten the wrong time."

Alex shook her head. Kayleigh's just been yelling at me about eating breakfast and I've been telling her that I don't like to eat it.

James frowned. "Well, why not? Breakfast's the most important meal of the day!"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Ugh, I _know_. She tells me that all the time, but I can't eat breakfast! It makes me ill!"

"How can eating food make you ill?"

"First thing in the morning, it just does. I can't explain it. I have to wait at least an hour in the mornings, otherwise I get nauseous. So it's just coffee and then snacking at work."

"Should you be snacking around all those priceless antiques?" James asked, smirking.

"Oh, Stevie doesn't mind," Alex responded seriously. "As long as I'm not splattering mashed potatoes all over the merchandise or spilling mustard over evi..."

Alex caught herself. _Evidence. _She had been about to say evidence. She hadn't been a police officer in over six years, and yet her mind still slipped into copper mode.

Kayleigh and James, ever aware of what happened, were silent for a moment.

Finally, James spoke. "I'm not going to keep you two, but I wanted to give you the first book. Free of charge, of course."

He smiled at her. "What do you think?"

Alex looked at the cover. _Breaking the Darkness,_ it declared in big letters. James' name was underneath the title, and the picture was a photo of the entirety of CID. They were all looking sharp; the photo had been taken for some project the super had wanted.

She turned the book over, reading the synopsis.

'"_The most remarkable __thing about that Monday was how normal everything started ou__t." For the first time since the Massacre that took the lives of twelve police officers, Alex Drake, the only survivor, tells what occurred in the office on that fateful day and her path to recover from the most horrifying thing to happen in her entire life.'_

Alex closed her eyes for a moment, flipping back to the front of the book, before opening it, and turning through the pages to the back, where the pictures of CID stared at her.

_**Biographies**_

'_That office, they were the closest I'd ever gotten to colleagues before. We knew every intimate detail about each other's lives, because we had to trust each other with them. We were just like a family. Gene was like the father of the group, and I the mother. The rest of them looked up to us, but we were all so close. Gene said it best. "We are police officers. We are brothers. And they will never, ever break us."'_

_-Alex Drake_

_**Women's Police Constable Sharon 'Shaz' Granger (1 May, 1956-11 April, 1983)**_

_Shaz was never the kind of girl to let the boys do all the work. She had been clever and witty since she was able to speak, and DCI Hunt had promised that she was on the way to becoming a WDC. She looked up to DI Drake, or 'The Ma'am,' as she called her, for her 'bravery and the way she carried herself around the men.' On more than one occasion, Shaz had stated her desire to be just like DI Drake. She was to be married in June of 1983. She loved Chris so much. He was all she'd ever talk about. I didn't believe in soul mates until I saw those two together. Chris died for Shaz. Shaz died for DI Drake. They all died the deaths of heroes at the hands of cowards._

_Biography contributed by Lucy Granger._

_WPC Granger was preceded in death by her grandmother and grandfather, and is survived by parents Robert and Lucy Granger, brother Jason, and sister Grace._

_**Police Sergeant Vivian James (6 November, 1951-11 April, 1983)**_

_Viv was a loving father and a generous man. He took in his nephew as though he was his own child. His favourite football team was West Ham and he loved to work out riddles. He was kind and caring, and loved his job nearly as much as he did his family._

_Biography contributed by Emma James._

_PS James was preceded in death by father, Gregory and is survived by mother, Lisa, wife, Emma, and son, Robert._

_**Detective Constable Evan Hooper (4 January, 1948-11 April, 1983)**_

_When this happened, I thought I'd never get over it. I was eight, and Tommy was only seven. We loved Dad so much. He never was cross with us, and always went to our school things, if work would allow. He taught Tommy how to play football and would play dolls with me and have tea parties. He was the best father that anyone could ask for, and we miss him very much. _

_Evan never said no to the kids. He loved them so much. He would come in from work, looking haggard and worn, and then the children would come into the room and his whole face would light up. He was the best husband anyone could ask for, and tried to be there as much as he could, even though his job took up so much of his time._

_Biographies contributed by Caroline and Susan Hooper. _

_DC Hooper was preceded in death by grandparents, and is survived by father, Jonathan, mother, Lily, wife, Susan, daughter Caroline and son, Thomas. _

_**Detective Constable Thomas Horton (23 June, 1944-11 April, 1983)**_

_Tom was the gentlest man and most timid man I ever knew. We met in Uni. He was in my maths course. He told me once; it took him nearly a month to get up the courage to talk to me. We dated for nearly five years before we got married, and he confessed later it was just him trying to get the courage to ask me. He was so docile with Toby, and Toby knew that if he ever wanted anything, he needed to go to his father. _

_Biography contributed by Elizabeth Horton._

_DC Horton was preceded in death by mother, Claudia, and is survived by father Steven, wife Elizabeth, and son Toby._

_**Detective Constable Benjamin 'Bammo' Norton (21 October, 1946-11 April, 1983)**_

_I never understood how Ben got the nickname 'Bammo.' He tried to explain it once, but it was long and complicated so I just ended up shrugging my shoulders and continued to call him Ben. He was the best man I knew. He was kind and brave, and even though he didn't want kids, he was great with them._

_Biography contributed by Lauren Norton. _

_DC Norton was preceded in death by his grandparents and is survived by father, Samuel, mother, Eloise, and wife Lauren._

_**Detective Constable Joseph Poirot (16 July, 1940-11 April, 1983)**_

_He was a good man to work with. He made sure that all of his things were done and had a quick wit. His partner was Terry. He loved his younger brother John so much, and that was one of his main talking points. He loved to tell us what John had done, what he had accomplished. _

_Biography contributed by Alex Drake._

_DC Poirot was preceded in death by mother Sophia and father, Isaac. His brother, John was killed in a car accident six months after DC Poirot's death. _

_**Detective Constable Brandon Simpson (12 August, 1950-11 April, 1983)**_

_I didn't know Daddy, but Mummy said that he was a good man. I wanted to tell him that I love him, even though he's not here now._

_Brandon was so excited to be a father. He had a large family growing up and loved the idea of children running around the house. He was so attentive to me as I got further into my pregnancy and was planning to take a sabbatical after Tegan was born to spend time together with us. He was a good man, and would have been a wonderful father._

_Biographies contributed by Tegan and Mollie Simpson._

_DC Simpson was preceded in death by his grandparents, and is survived by father, Dylan, mother, Courtney, wife, Mollie, and son Tegan, born three months after his father's death._

_**Detective Constable Christopher Skelton (7 December, 1952-11 April, 1983)**_

_The only thing that mattered in Chris' life was Shaz. Two days before his death, we had drinks, and she was the only thing that he could talk about. He was terrified of getting married, but really excited. I was excited for him. I spent our childhood watching him flounder around girls, having no idea what to do or say, but Shaz found that endearing. I think he would have been a brilliant husband to Shaz._

_Biography contributed by Erin Townsend. _

_DC Skelton was preceded in death by his grandparents, and is survived by father, Callum, mother Alicia, and sister, Erin._

_**Detective Constable Eliot Terry (17 March, 1941-11 April, 1983)**_

_Not a day goes by when I'm not angry. I'm still angry at the men who took my husband's life. They ruthlessly took away the only man who has ever meant anything to me. Sometimes, I want to go to the prison and see the ring leader, and make him look me in the eyes. Eliot was a wonderful father and a good man, and didn't deserve the death that he had. No one deserves to go out like that._

_Biography contributed by Isabelle Terry._

_DC Terry was preceded in death by mother, Naomi, father, Jude, and sister Ella. He is survived by wife Isabelle and daughter, Amy._

_**Detective Constable Mason Waters (30 Sept 1953-11 April, 1983)**_

_Mason never got to be a father. He never even got to know that he was going to be one. I learned two weeks after his death that I was pregnant. I know that he would have been amazing as a dad. Finley looks just like his father. Mason was quick witted and kind hearted and I miss him very much. But I still love him._

_Biography contributed by Maya Waters. _

_DC Waters was preceded in death by mother Georgina, and is survived by father Jacob, wife Maya, and son Finley, born eight months after his father's death._

_**Detective Sergeant Raymond Carling (12 April, 1949-11 April, 1983)**_

_Ray was the only man in our family that did not go into the military service. At the time I was furious with him. But he came into his own as a copper. The job really worked for him, and he did it well. Raymond's life was cut short because of a coward, but his legacy will live on with his nephews and nieces. _

_Biography provided by James Carling. _

_DS Carling was preceded in death by mother Melissa, and is survived by father, James, and brothers, Joel, Anthony, and Nathan. _

_**Detective Chief Inspector Gene Hunt (9 January 1936-11 April, 1983)**_

_He was reckless, irresponsible and a complete child at times. But at the same time, he was the most beautiful man I ever knew. Gene had a hard, dark exterior, but he was one of the most kind-hearted people I have ever known. He cared for and respected his team, no matter how much he would complain about them and call them useless. He was married to his job first. That was the way it always was. In his mind, his first and only duty was to save the city from 'the scum and filth of the streets.' He will always be sorely missed, not only in the station he ran, but also in our lives._

_Biography contributed by ex-wife Elaine Hunt._

_DCI Hunt was preceded in death by father Thomas, mother Angela and brother, Stuart. _

Alex felt the tears glistening in her eyes as she looked over the pages of CID. Part of her was disappointed that Elaine had contributed, but Elaine had been married to Gene for many years before she ever met him. And with no relationship besides DI-DCI, there was no reason that Elaine's contribution shouldn't have been put in.

Instead, she swallowed, and blinked back her tears. "It's perfect," she murmured, looking up at James. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ Alex," he replied, giving her a huge hug. "I think people really need to see this. It's shocking and terrifying, but you've survived and that's an amazing enough of a tale to read over and over again."

She smiled at him. "If you say so."


	10. Memorial

**I presented xX-Misty with three (very similar) options for the ending. She chose this one.**

**Chapter 10: Memorial**

**11 April, 1993**

They stared silently at the little plot of gravestones, now slightly weatherworn, but the words still clearly etched.

"Ten years," Alex murmured quietly, looking at her watch. "Ten years ago, right now, he was still alive."

Kayleigh put her hands on Alex's shoulders, resting her chin on one of her hands. She knew that all Alex needed right now was the closeness of her body; no words would be able to help her right now.

Alex stared at the gravestones, appreciating Kayleigh's closeness. For a moment, she swore she saw Gene standing behind his grave, staring at her with a mournful expression, but when she blinked, he disappeared. She felt tears in her eyes, and let them fall freely. Usually she could get past her feelings, but she had already decided that today was a day of mourning, and she didn't need to be strong in front of Kayleigh.

"It's been ten years," she murmured. "I still miss him."

Kayleigh still said nothing, something which Alex appreciated. They had only been together for a few years, but they already knew each other inside and out. Kayleigh knew when Alex was just simply expressing herself, without need of confirmation.

Alex stared at the grave, back to the flower in her hands. A blue orchid, just like when she had laid the first flower on Gene's grave all those years ago. She looked around at the gravestones, which had been covered by flowers on the little plot. The cold slabs of stone were hardly ever bare, families always looking after them, laying flowers in memorial of the loved ones they lost too soon. The only ones that remained bare were Poirot's, because his only surviving family member had died only months after him, and Gene's, whose only family was Elaine, and she did not come down from Manchester to tend the grave.

However, today, something had been laid on his grave. She looked at it, smiling when she realised what it was. Alex picked up the flask, unscrewing the top and smelling it.

Single-malt. She smiled, screwing the lid back on and setting it down by his grave. She laid the orchid next to the flask.

"I know you hate poncey flowers," she murmured. "But at least you've got some whiskey to offset that, right?"

She stood, staring fondly down at the grave when a memory came unbidden to her.

_She was sitting at her desk, a migraine working its way across her skull. She had been staring at paperwork for hours on end, and was just longing for a call to come in just so she could get out of the office for a bit._

_She felt as though someone was watching her. Alex looked up, glancing into Gene's office. He was staring at her intensely, smoke rising from the cigarette in his fingers. A glass of whiskey sat in front of him, ignored. He knew she was looking at him, but he continued to stare at her shamelessly, smoking. _

_Alex had no idea how long she had remained, staring at him. Eventually, Ray had shot a pencil across the room at her, breaking her from her reverie, from Gene's hypnotising eyes. They had not mentioned it later that night._

_That was the last full day they had worked together._

Alex let her tears drip on his grave for a moment before turning to Kayleigh. "Let's go home," she murmured. "I need to get ready for tonight."

The drive home was silent. Alex was thankful that they had decided to take the car rather than the tube. She wanted the silence, and being crowded in with people would have been too much.

They parked in front of Kayleigh's house, where another, familiar car was parked. Carrie was outside, accompanied by Michael.

"Please don't tell me you left Katherine in there alone," Alex said. Carrie smiled. She had become more accepting of their relationship and accepted Alex as another parental figure. Michael and Ella had done the same, and they were very close.

"Katherine is being entertained by Ella. She's doing some dramatic reading of her poetry or something." Carrie rolled her eyes. "I had to get out. It was too irritating."

"You need to support your sister," Kayleigh said.

"I will when her poetry isn't crap."

Michael laughed, kicking a football, which narrowly missed Carrie's face.

"You little..." Carrie got up angrily, chasing her brother around the garden, but there was no real venom in her chase.

Kayleigh and Alex merely laughed, going inside to leave them to sort things out. They heard Ella's voice talking to Katherine.

"I wanted to talk about the depression," Ella said. "Some of this was pieced together from my own experience, but some of it was from Alex too."

Alex stopped Kayleigh, wanting to listen to the poem. Ella had suffered from depression for a few years, and Katherine, who was too close to the family to be a therapist, had suggested someone for them. Ella had gotten though it, but Alex knew that it would come back to haunt her, just like her depression had done for the past ten years.

They heard Ella start reading dramatically.

_I am the silent_

_I am what you don't see_

_I am the darkness hovering_

_Even when you laugh, I am there, waiting._

_I wait for you to be alone_

_I wait for you to settle down_

_I wait for you to be tired_

_And then I attack you._

_I love it when you are weak_

_I love it when you are scared_

_I love it when you are broken_

_And if you are not, I will make it so._

_I'm always lurking_

_I'm always waiting_

_I'm always just behind you_

_Watching you try to interact._

_I will make you stop_

_I will make you over think_

_I will make you convince yourself everyone hates you_

_And then I will laugh, because I'm doing my job._

_I hate your happiness_

_I hate your relationships_

_I hate you_

_And I need you to know that._

_I want to see you suffer_

_I want to see you in total misery_

_I want to see you disappear_

_And I will coax you into doing so._

_I can make you take that knife_

_I can make you take that rope_

_I can make you take those pills_

_Because I know exactly what to say to make you do it._

_I will watch your body go limp_

_I will watch your chest go still_

_I will watch your eyes dilate_

_And I will feel the ultimate satisfaction._

_I have done it_

_I have defeated you_

_I have won_

_And I will move on to my next victim._

Alex stood there silently. How could a sixteen year old girl describe it so perfectly? Kayleigh stared at her silently, but she said nothing, instead walking in to where Katherine was sitting. Katherine looked just as disconcerted at this young girl's words as Alex felt.

"That was very good, Ella. Amazing," Katherine said honestly.

Ella blushed. "Thanks. I just threw it together one night feeling more down."

"It describes it perfectly," Alex answered honestly, surprising Ella, who hadn't noticed that they had walked into the room.

Ella looked down at the ground, pleased. "I suppose you want to talk to Katherine alone."

Alex nodded. "If that's okay. Carrie and Michael are in the front."

Ella rolled her eyes, which were covered in heavy eyeliner. "I think I'll stay upstairs."

Alex smiled as she walked out of the room. Ella was much more introverted than her brother and sister, and spent most of her time in her room.

Katherine smiled as Alex sat down. "You ready for tonight?"

"I've had trouble with the speech. What do they want me to say?"

"Just discuss how far you've come, how you've found hope."

Alex frowned a moment, before getting up off the couch and going upstairs to Ella's room. She knocked on the door, and when Ella told her to enter, she did.

"I loved your poem," Alex said.

Ella blushed again. "Thanks," she murmured.

Alex sat down on Ella's bed. "I was wondering...can I use that tonight?"

Ella looked surprised. "What?"

"That is the best portrayal of what I went through, Ella. I want to read it tonight before my speech."

Ella considered it before smiling. "Why not. Go ahead."

She gave Alex the crumpled paper and Alex smiled. "Thank you," she said, hugging the girl.

Alex went downstairs, telling Katherine and Kayleigh that she was going to get ready. They were going with her tonight as well, so Katherine dismissed herself to get ready as well.

A few hours later, they were standing in a large room that the Met had provided. Someone had come up with the idea of a memorial for the officers murdered in the Massacre, and they had decided to do it on the ten year anniversary. Families had been invited, and Alex had been asked to speak about her experience. She was starting a job at the Met in a few weeks to speak of her experience to new recruits, and to help those traumatised by any events. She looked forward to the job.

Alex looked through the sea of faces. She recognised only some of them, but she knew that all of them recognised her. The woman who lived. The sole survivor of what killed their family members.

Alex wanted to turn around immediately and walk out. She didn't want to face any of them, couldn't face them, but Katherine gave her a nudge to walk forward.

As she walked forward, more people noticed her. Although she was expecting disgust or anger from their faces, everyone smiled at her warmly, introducing themselves, telling whom their family member was.

She felt her heart break when she met Tegan Simpson and Finley Waters. The two boys were only nine. They had never known their fathers.

At the end of the line was a lone woman, seeming to be in her early fifties. She had brown hair down to her shoulders and huge blue eyes. She looked weary and exhausted now, but Alex could tell that when she was in her twenties she was a great beauty. The woman finally approached her and smiled.

"Alex Drake," she said, the Mancunian accent ringing clear. This meant that she was related Chris, Ray, or Gene. "I know all about you of course, but I doubt you know who I am."

Alex shook her head apologetically. "I never met many of CID's families. They were too raucous to have a party and bring families to it."

The woman smiled. "You wouldn't have met me at a party anyway. I'm Elaine. Gene's ex-wife."

Alex was unsure of what to say. Finally, she was able to think of something. It might seem rude, but it was better than the awkward silences. "I wish I could say that I'd heard more about you, but Gene never talked about Manchester."

"I'm not surprised," Elaine said honestly. "You couldn't get anything about that man's past even when he was pissed. He was an enigma."

"You were very kind about him in your biography for the book."

Elaine smiled. "At the time, it seemed so awful, living with him. But your perspectives change when you don't live with them anymore." She looked down, smiling sadly.

"I don't regret divorcing him. We weren't meant for each other, better off as friends. Hell, we were still amiable when we divorced. He'd ring me or I'd ring him occasionally. He told me about you. Frustrating and annoying, but there was a tone to it. You didn't piss him off. Well, you did, but he didn't mind it.

"When I got word of what happened down here, I was stunned. I had hoped to see you at his funeral, but you weren't there. I read the book and realised where you were. I'm sorry you had to miss it. I really wanted to drop by to visit you, but I didn't think that was wise. Surely you had someone to look after you. You wouldn't want Gene's ex to come sauntering in the room."

Alex nodded softly. "You'd have encountered a very different person."

"I know you won't believe this, because we've only met tonight, but I'm proud of you Alex. You've risen so high from where you were in the beginning. You got the proper help."

Alex opened her mouth to speak, but Elaine cut her off. "Yes, only because you were in hospital, but Gene wouldn't have even tried to go back to the force. If he was in your shoes, he would have stayed drunk until he died of alcohol poisoning."

"I nearly did that too."

"_But you didn't._ You got the help you needed. You're so strong, Alex, and you don't even realise it."

Alex smiled, and Elaine hugged her.

Dinner was being laid out on the tables, and she took her seat with Katherine and Kayleigh, happy to find out that Elaine sat with her. At each table, one or two seats sat empty depending on how many families were occupying the table. They had set it up so that partner's families would sit together. Ray's family was sat at Alex's table, so they had two empty seats. One for Gene, and one for Ray. It was a sombre reminder of the lives lost.

They finished eating, and a man came up to a podium, in the front of the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "Ten years ago, the unimaginable happened. No one believed the reports at first. But then, as more filtered in, the unimaginable became reality. These twelve men and women behind me," he said gesturing to photos of her friends, "were murdered in cold blood to try and release a man from jail. DCI Hunt wouldn't back down, costing the lives of himself and his colleagues. They died upholding the law, true heroes. And from the carnage of that day, one person escaped, arguably the biggest hero of all. She came from ultimate despair to find happiness, finding herself able even to have a man write a book about it. She didn't take the cheques for it, instead, having the proceeds donated to the Police Widows and Orphans fund. Here to tell us her story tonight, in case you haven't read it already, is former Detective Inspector Alex Drake."

The room started to clap politely and Alex stood, taking a deep breath in.

She walked to the podium, staring nervously at the room of people. She was glad her back was turned to the pictures. She didn't think that she could give this speech staring into the faces of all of her dead friends.

She cleared her throat, looking at Elaine Hunt, who smiled encouragingly. Alex still couldn't believe how nice she had been. She focused on Katherine and Kayleigh, and both of them smiled encouragingly as well. Kayleigh gave her a small thumbs up and Alex smiled. Katherine nodded, telling her that she could do it, just as she had done with James a few years ago. Alex took a deep breath. She was stronger than she was in 1987. She could do this. Who cared if it was CID's families? They didn't hate her for surviving what their family members didn't; they wouldn't hate her for speaking honestly.

"Ten years ago, the most horrible thing imaginable happened to everyone in this room. They lost someone very close to them. A dad, a lover, a son, a daughter, a brother, a sister. Everyone lost someone. I lost my very best friends. And by losing them, I lost myself. I have built a life back up, but it took years to do, and the help of people who just wouldn't give up.

"This morning, after visiting the gravesite, my partner's daughter was reciting poetry to the woman who used to be my therapist. She read a poem, and it struck a chord with me. With her permission, I'm reading it again tonight."

Alex read through the poem, feeling the power of the words reaching the crowd. She looked nervously at Katherine and Kayleigh, who nodded at her to continue.

"This is the most accurate portrayal of depression I have ever seen. This is exactly what it did to me. I had watched my colleagues, your family members, die, and I felt guilty that I was still alive. I knew I had no right. I knew all of you would be angry at me. What right did I have to live when I had no one connect me to the world? I had no daughter. I had no husband. No mother, no father, no sisters or brothers. No one. So when I woke up in that hospital room, still hazy from anaesthetic, I knew that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life.

"A month after it happened, that was the first attempt I took on my life. I was seeing Gene everywhere. He stayed in my flat, trying to reason with me to stop drinking, to try and get me to stop seeing him, to listen to my psychologist. I knew it was just the reasonable side of my mind trying to get me to see sense, but I didn't want sense. I wanted Gene back. I wanted CID back, my job, my friends.

"And then he referred to himself in the past tense. And I got angry. I threw a bottle of vodka at the wall, and was getting ready to burn myself to death when someone stopped me. My therapist, a woman I hated, had known that something was wrong when I went into the session that day. She sent someone to check up on me."

Alex swallowed, looking at Katherine, feeling bad admitting her hatred of her, but Katherine had known. Katherine had always known that Alex had hated her in the beginning. Alex had always made that very clear anyway.

She looked into the back of the room. Gene was standing back there, staring at her with his intense blue eyes. She blinked, but he didn't disappear.

_It's just because all these people are here,_ she thought. _He's only appearing because I'm reliving everything._

Alex took a deep breath and continued to speak.

"I spent seven months in a psychiatric hospital. Six of those long months, I hardly spoke to anyone, I hardly did anything. Gene kept appearing to me, trying to get me to talk to the therapist whose name I still didn't know. Something in me changed one day, and I asked her to go see Gene's grave. Something that I hadn't seen at all. I was in too critical of a condition to go to anyone's funeral and I didn't want to acknowledge that he was dead. But when I went that day, it was only then that I started to move past things.

"I finally stopped seeing Gene. I learned my therapist's name, and she's become one of my closest friends now. I left the hospital, I got a job. I passed the year anniversary with only a small blip of not wanting to get out of bed. But compared to before, it was nothing.

"But then I regressed. I had blocked out the fact that my daughter died because of police work, and for some reason, it came back to me in a rush. I tried to kill myself again, a quick slice, but Katherine was there to stop me, to get me medical attention when the blade went down my skin. And I was angry. I was angry that I had done that to myself. I had come so far, and there I was, back at square one..."

She looked up. Everyone was hanging onto her every word, and there were tears in some people's eyes. In the back of the room, Gene was still there, and Chris, Shaz and Ray had joined him. They all looked mournful, walking forward to sit next to their families.

"After I spent another month in hospital, I came out determined to never go back. My tiny baby steps had become strides. I got asked to tell my story. I fell in love. I still had my dark days, but they weren't as black as before.

"I had found hope. I had tried for so long and I finally found the light. I found the reason in living."

All of CID was there now, every person whose picture was on the wall behind her. They were sitting in the seats left open for them, looking at their families, their children, with wonder mingled with incredible sadness. Even Gene had gone into the crowd, sitting in the empty seat next to Elaine, his lips pushed up into a pout and his blue eyes sparkling. He was wearing his trademark cowboy boots, his trousers, and the white shirt with the black and red striped tie. There was no jacket, just like when he had been murdered ten years ago. He had taken it off only ten minutes before the men had barged into CID.

She stared at the crowd which had grown by a dozen. Only one seat was empty now, and that was hers.

Slightly disturbed, Alex cleared her throat and continued.

"Once upon a time, a client I had told me that if I were alive, I could feel. If I couldn't feel, I wouldn't be. And I can still feel. I could feel all that time. I thought I had gone numb to the world, when in reality, the extreme pain told me differently. But I was still afraid. If I did find the light, would all of them have died for nothing? Would I forget them?

"The answer of course is no. Everyone from that CID still lives in my heart. I still love each and every one of them, just as you still love your family member. And it took finding the hope to realise that.

"I have come to realise from this experience, that there is hope in every circumstance, a chance to come out stronger than ever before. I am much stronger than I was ten years ago. I am a completely different person. And I don't mind that. I love that I am this person. It was a hard path to get here, and if I could go back and save CID, I would. But I can't help but wonder what kind of woman I would be if I had not gone through that terror.

"I would like to raise my glass to my colleagues, to your family members. May they continue to rest in peace."

All of CID turned to look at her, and suddenly, her glass was falling from her grasp. The faces in the crowd turned from sorrowful to fearful, and she couldn't figure out why, until she crumpled to the floor, the pain suddenly waving violently in her chest.

Her breath felt short and ragged, but it was silent around her. She knew people were screaming, she could see them, but she could not hear them.

Kayleigh's face appeared over hers, worried tears falling from her eyes, splashing onto Alex's face.

Sound suddenly came back, and the screams erupted in her ears. It was all loud. Too loud. Much too loud.

Katherine appeared next to Kayleigh. Both had tears and fear in their eyes. Kayleigh picked up Alex's head, resting it in her lap as Katherine pressed her dinner napkin against Alex's wound, causing more pain. Alex grunted, but that was the only sound that she could make. The ability to say words escaped her.

Her eyelids started to feel heavy as she realised that the bullet wound felt much closer to her heart than the one she had received ten years ago had.

"You've got to hang on, Alex," Katherine said, but everything was starting to sound muffled.

"You can't, Alex," Kayleigh said. "The ambulance is on its way. Stay with me."

She was trying. God, she was trying to stay with Kayleigh. She had so much to live for. To fight for.

But the coldness was settling in.

Kayleigh and Katherine continued to plead with her, but Alex realised that everything was starting to feel numb.

_If you can feel, you're alive. When you don't, you're not. _

Was she dying then? Finally, after her struggle, had it all been for nothing?

"_You're not going to see me anymore, Bolly. Not until the day that you die. I'll come back and get you."_

"Christ," she whispered, but it may have only been in her mind. Everything had fallen silent once more. She had seen Gene all day. Did that mean...?

Heavy footfalls were drawing closer to her, the only sound she could hear. Suddenly, Gene appeared over her. He knelt down next to her, his silvery blue eyes glittering intensely.

"It's time to go, Alex."

He held out his hand to help her up, and she grabbed it, getting onto her feet, observing the chaos that was still rampant in the room. Kayleigh and Katherine were still kneeling beside her body, covered in her blood. Kayleigh was sobbing, pressing her forehead against Alex's. Katherine looked utterly defeated, still pressing the cloth napkin to Alex's chest in shock. People were ducked under tables, but no one else had been hurt.

Two security guards had tackled a man to the ground, a gun a few feet in front of him. A silencer was attached, which explained why she didn't know what had happened until it was too late. CID had gathered by the door all waiting for them expectantly. They walked over to the group, where everyone was wearing a small sad smile.

"The order's been given upstairs, Bolly," Gene said. "It's time for you to join us."

"But Kayleigh," she murmured. "Katherine..."

Gene shook his head mournfully. "Just you."

The room faded around them, transforming into CID from ten years ago. It looked the same as ever, papers scattered everywhere, and all the pinup girls hanging from the walls. Alex breathed the smoky air deep into her lungs, smiling at the familiar scent.

She looked around the room, at all her old colleagues, when suddenly Ray smiled and started clapping. Everyone started to join in with him. She stood, stunned, the coppers welcomed her back.

"You should have died in that room ten years ago," Gene said, as she walked towards her old desk in disbelief. "But you didn't. You always were a stubborn cow. You hung on, and you became the most famous of us all." He offered a rare smile.

"The press is going to have a field day about this," she said, happy to be back, but agonised over the fact that she was now separated from Kayleigh. Now she was thinking of facts to distract herself from that. "Murdered on the ten year anniversary? Jesus Christ."

Gene shook his head, reaching his hand out for her. She took it and he started to speak as they all left the room together, through the main doors just like they had so many times before. "Doesn't matter anymore, Bolly," he said as they walked out, followed by CID. "Now, let's go have a drink. Luigi came back only last week."

**Epilogue up next week.**


	11. Epilogue: Hush

**I gave Misty the option and she chose for today to post MH. IOV will be up Thursday. I also want to thank Misty, because if it hadn't have been for her figure of Kim, this story would have never happened.**

**I want to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted and favorited this story. I know I don't send out emails thanking you, (I'm way too awkward for that...) but I really, really appreciate it. I really hope you enjoy the epilogue as well.**

**Epilogue: Hush**

Katherine watched as Kayleigh struggled to talk. It had been less than a week since Alex's death and she was still struggling. It was only to be expected. It was always difficult when a lover died, and Alex had died in Kayleigh's arms.

Katherine closed her eyes, and the scene came to her mind, just as it did every time she closed them. She had known that Alex was fighting, she could tell by the way the woman gasped furiously for each breath. But the ambulances had taken too long. Alex had breathed her last nearly five minutes before they had arrived.

What had never left Katherine's mind, however, was the look of absolute peace that crossed Alex's face just before her eyes went blank and she exhaled for the last time. Somehow, from that look, Katherine knew that Gene had come to get her.

Once everyone realised that the man who had shot Alex had only shot once, they had started to emerge from underneath the tables, looking in shock at the man who had been handcuffed by security. It was only later that they had found out that he was the son of the ringleader who had killed Gene. It was a shame, the boy was only twenty and he was going to jail for life.

But the way the boy had seen it was that he was avenging his father, whom he thought was unfairly imprisoned. In his mind, he was in the right, and Alex was in the wrong. He had wandered in the room, pretending to be lost before pulling out his gun and shooting her. And the boy had known that he wasn't going to get out of it.

As the security pulled him out of the room, he had yelled loud enough for all of them to hear.

"_She can burn in hell with the rest of them!"_

This had caused Kayleigh to burst into fresh tears, begging Alex to somehow come back to life.

By this point, nothing could bring her back.

They had found out later that the bullet clipped her aorta and punctured her lung. As her heart beat, it had torn open the wound a little more with each pump until finally, the tear got too large and she died of blood loss.

Katherine turned her attention back to Kayleigh, who was still speaking.

"I was going through some of Alex's things yesterday, when I found an old photo album of hers. It was dusty, like it hadn't been touched in ages. I opened it, and as I was turning through the pages, looking at all these old photos of her work colleagues. I found a dried flower, accompanied by a sheet of paper in her handwriting. The flower was a blue orchid, just like the one that she would lay on Gene's grave."

Katherine gasped. She remembered all those years ago, telling Alex to dry the orchid. She had never realised that the woman had listened. She pulled herself out of her memories as Kayleigh continued to speak.

"The paper was a poem she had written down. I think that when she was still recovering, she wrote it down, to remind her about Gene, but now, it works for her as well."

Katherine looked around the solemn room. Most of the people who were at the memorial dinner were at the funeral. Chris Skelton's parents and Ray Carling's family had gone back to Manchester, but Elaine Hunt had stayed. She was sitting in the row across from Katherine.

Elaine was wiping tears away with a tissue. She had been crying before the funeral as well, when she stopped to offer condolences to Kayleigh.

"I'm sorry," she had said. "I just...after how much I heard about her, after what Gene told me about her, I really felt like I knew her. I think we could have been friends."

Elaine wiped away another tear and sniffled, but hers were not the only teary eyes in the room. More than half of the people in the room were tearing up, knowing that Alex, like all of her colleagues, had been taken long before her time.

Katherine had been angry. To her, it was almost like all those years of helping Alex through the trauma had been for nothing. But then, her husband had talked her through it, telling her that she gave Alex ten more years of life. Alex had happiness in her life before she was murdered, and she owed it to the diligence of Katherine.

That had helped a lot, but she still was angry at the boy who had murdered one of her best friends. She doubted that she could ever _not _be angry at him.

Kayleigh cleared her throat.

"I know that Alex didn't write this, but I don't know who the author is. She didn't even write a title on it, so I don't know what it is called, and I apologise for that."

Kayleigh took a deep breath and started to read the poem.

_Do not stand at my grave and weep,_

_I am not there; I do not sleep._

_I am a thousand winds that blow,_

_I am the diamond glints on snow,_

_I am the sun on ripened grain,_

_I am the gentle autumn rain. _

_When you awaken in the morning's hush_

_I am the sweet uplifting rush_

_Of quiet birds in circling flight. _

_I am the soft star-shine at night._

_Do not stand at my grave and cry,_

_I am not there; I did not die._

"This poem reflects the woman that Alex became. She realised that Gene was dead, and there was nothing she could do to bring him back. I know I can't bring Alex back, and it hurts me. Most of you can imagine _how much_ it hurts me. But the idea that I can see her, wherever I am. The idea that I can find her in the rain, or when the birds start singing. She is still going to be a part of me, just like Gene remained a part of her. So though I may visit her grave to honour her memory, I can remember that she's not there. She's all around me. She lives through me, through all of the lives that she touched."

Kayleigh silenced, tears in her eyes as walked down from the podium, taking her place next to Katherine. The room stayed silent.

A few hours later, Kayleigh leaned into Katherine, laying her head on the woman's shoulder, crying. They were standing at Alex's grave. Everyone else had gone, including Kayleigh's children, leaving them alone to mourn.

"I am not there," Kayleigh murmured under her breath. "I do not sleep." She paused. "Please help me remember that, Katherine."

Katherine held the dried blue orchid in her hands, staring at it, tears welling in her eyes. Although she knew that Kayleigh needed her right now, she pushed the woman off, kneeling at the gravestone. She laid the flower against the slab of cold stone, smiling even as tears flowed quickly down her cheeks.

"It was this orchid that started our friendship," she murmured. "Ten years ago...I like to think it helped you to stop hating me. It's only fitting that I give you it again now, at the close. You were my sister, Alex, and I loved you so much. I hope you finally found Gene again. But don't you forget Kayleigh."

A breath of wind ruffled her hair, and she swore she heard a voice whisper two words. _I won't._

She looked up for the voice, but only Kayleigh was standing there, weeping silently. "C'mon," she murmured to the woman. "Let's get you home."

They walked out in silence, but Katherine couldn't help turning once to stare at Alex's grave. The orchid was the only flower there, a silent reminder of the sorrow passed. She could only notice how lonely it looked.

Unbidden, the last two lines of the poem came to her.

_Do not stand at my grave and cry,_

_I am not there; I did not die. _

**Rant**

* * *

The poem is _Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep _by Mary Elizabeth Frye.


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